


Outsider

by Kai_Maciel



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics)
Genre: Angry Dad, Angry Son, Batman's A+ Parenting, Brotherhood, Families of Choice, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation, Rejection, lots of talking, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-06 09:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5411978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_Maciel/pseuds/Kai_Maciel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a cold winter night, Bruce Wayne reunites with his three sons and Alfred as they watch a movie in the comfort of the Manor instead of fighting crime for a change. Outside, Jason Todd stands in the snow as he watches the happy family having a good time. Silently, the Red Hood leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Outsider 门外之人](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345672) by [xiaomuecho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiaomuecho/pseuds/xiaomuecho)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I see that panel of Bruce and the Three Robins watching a movie while Bruce claimed that it was good to be with his "whole family", I feel awful. Not because it's a bad scene (it's lovely), but because I think of Jason, ignored and left out. I thought what he would feel if he saw them through the window. This story is a result of that, but placed in the New 52 continuity because that's the one I read and the one where I like Jason better.
> 
> It will be a short story with only three chapters. I hope you like the first one.

_Bruce_

Wayne Manor was filled with noise tonight. Both the kitchen and the living room's lights were on, the huge LCD screen flickered as Dick changed the channels. Damian and Tim threw insults at each other as the third Robin unpacked his small bag in his old bedroom, their raised voices could be heard from the kitchen downstairs where Alfred Pennyworth poured strawberry milkshakes into large cups with a tiny smile on his face.

Bruce leaned against the door of the kitchen and peeked at the staircase.

"Get down here, you two. We're starting!" the raven haired man yelled, sounding harsher than he actually felt.

The truth was Bruce felt happy.

Maybe not as happy as a normal person would feel, but at least he didn't feel the darkness looming over him, the weight of his parent's deaths pulling him like an anchor into a familiar abyss of grief and rage that he got used to like a second skin.

But tonight was different. His three sons were home at the same time and Gotham wasn't in a state of emergency.

Tonight, Dick and Tim had both been in Gotham and stopped by to say  _'Hi'_. Alfred somehow managed to convince them to stay for dinner and then to spend the night. He even managed to convince all of them to watch a movie together.

Bruce picked his cellphone for the fifth time and clicked on Jason's contact. In end, he gave up and put the phone back in his pocket. Jason probably wouldn't even pick up the phone anyway.

After ten minutes of bickering, Bruce stood up and picked a Blu-ray case from one of the shelves. Dick's eyes widened when he saw the title.

" _The Mark of Zorro_?" the oldest son asked carefully.

Tim also seemed apprehensive, but Alfred smiled. Damian simply threw himself into one of the five sofas they had pushed across the living room in front of the LCD screen with his headphones on his ears.

Bruce put the CD on the Blu-ray player and sat in the middle of the five sofas before pulling off Damian's headphones.

"You're gonna torture us with some black-and-white movie, aren't you?" Damian asked, staring at his father with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Open your mind, Damian," Bruce told his sulking son. "The movie's got a lot of swordplays and no CGI. You'll love it."

Dick sat next to Bruce with his milkshake on his hand, still worried about the effect of that particular movie on his adoptive father.

"Um… Bruce, you sure you want to watch this?" Dick asked.

Bruce nodded, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"It may have been the worst night of my life, Dick, but up until Chill stepped out of the shadows, it was one of the best days of my life," Bruce explained slowly. "It wasn't often I got to spend every waking moment with both my mother and father. The whole day felt special. Looking back, this movie not only marked and ending, but a beginning… of a new road… a new path… So it kind of feels right to see it again…"

Bruce finally pressed play and relaxed against the comfortable sofa with a smile on his face.

"… with the whole family."

* * *

_Jason_

Gotham City would never be the kind of city that went quieter when it snowed. If anything, the cold made people angrier and louder as they tried to survive another day and the cold weather. The incoming snowstorm didn't help their belligerent attitude.

Jason Todd overtook a line of vehicles swiftly through the frozen road with his motorcycle, succeeding in not crashing. Even though he was wearing his uniform under warm clothes, he still felt cold as the icy snow landed on him. He really should have picked a car.

After crossing the bridge, Jason turned to an empty road that would lead him straight to Wayne Manor.

He wasn't planning on showing up, but Roy had received a surprising request from Green Arrow to spend the weekend in Star City and help him with a case. Even though his partner had left groaning and complaining how insufferable Oliver Queen was, Jason knew that Roy was secretly delighted to that his former mentor wanted to spend time with him for a change.

"Are you gonna be alright by yourself, Jaybird?" Roy asked as he packed his things, including a few new inventions that Jason assumed he was going to show Green Arrow.

"I'll be fine, Harper. Finally some peace and quiet for a change," Jason smirked and threw a sock at the redhead. "I have work to do anyway. Bats wants me to investigate a weapons supplier that is selling guns to Gotham's top crime lords. We met some of his cronies back in Bulgaria and Greece."

"Ah! It's all coming back screaming to me," Arsenal answered. "Are you going to Gotham, then?"

"Nah, I'll just email him the data."

Roy frowned at his friend. "You should go and deliver the data in person, Jason. It could be nice to go back home."

Jason leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

"There's a reason I left, Roy."

"Yet we keep showing up there."

"It's not my fault Gotham is sitting on a Hellmouth," Jason shrugged. "Besides, every time we went there was to fight someone or something. I don't do social calls."

Roy stood up and faced his best friend. It was harder to think that he was actually two years older than Jason was. Then again, all Bat Kids had to age mentally very quickly to work with someone like Batman.

"You should go, Jason. Just stop by and say hello to Batman, the data is a good excuse. Who knows? The Bat might be less grumpy this time."

Thus, at the last minute, Jason bought a plane ticket and flew to Gotham holding a USB drive, which contained the shady arms dealer's data, picked up a motorcycle from one of his hideouts and ventured into the snowstorm to give it to Bruce personally.

Roy had been right about one thing. He was going to give Batman the data, so it still wasn't a social call.

Jason finally stopped this motorcycle in front of the Manor's huge iron gates and walked slowly towards the buzzer. As usual, he hacked the system and opened the gate by himself. Bruce still hadn't updated his security to let Jason enter freely, which meant Jason always made sure that his former mentor knew he had forced his way into the Manor.

Interestingly, he was allowed to walk freely into the Batcave, a place with more security than the Pentagon. Yet, Bruce never changed the security protocols to let Jason into Wayne Manor after his death, even after the Red Hood stopped his war against the Batman.

About a year ago, Jason would never have thought about going into the Manor to deliver data. He had been blind with thoughts of revenge, making plan after plan to bring Batman and his allies down. However, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he would never be able to kill the Bat.

No matter how angry he was and how much he hated him, it was Bruce. He couldn't kill Bruce.

Leaving Gotham was the best decision he had ever made. The rage fueled by the Pit was turning him into someone he couldn't recognize and Gotham was filled with bad memories of laughing clowns, grief and rejection.

Jason remembered coming back to Gotham after spending two months on Bludhaven's Hospital with severe sepsis. He returned to an empty apartment, still weak and emaciated, barely able to take a bath by himself or cook. He had turned eighteen on the hospital, but his birthday spent alone in an ICU bed. He could easily cut his wrists and die, knowing that his corpse wouldn't be found until days or even weeks.

He knew then that his presence in Gotham made no difference, that his war against the Bat would only bring him more sorrow. Therefore, he gave up on his hopeless war, picked up his belongings and left.

Things were better now. It had taken a while, but now he was fighting alongside Batman and the rest of the Family instead of against them. The other Robins trusted him, especially his replacement, which had been very surprising, to say the least. He was one of the Robins again, one of the family. Dick had called him a brother.

Jason pulled his red hoodie over his head and tucked his motorcycle helmet under his arm, the cold air almost freezing his nose and cheeks. As his boots crushed the perfect white snow, the young man saw lights from living room's windows. He checked his phone, it was nine thirty. Fortunately, he had arrived before Bruce went on patrol.

Jason prepared himself mentally for what he was gonna do and say once he got into the Manor. Surely, both Bruce and Alfred were going to be surprised by his late visit and he guessed Damian would not be particularly welcoming. Either way, he was just going to ring the doorbell and go along with what came next.

Alfred, always present and warm, would welcome him back to the manor and most likely offer him some homemade dinner. Jason would agree, he'd have to be insane to refuse Alfred's cooking.

He pictured Bruce's stoic face, asking him why he had come. That was what the USB drive was for. They could look at it later, after Jason ate whatever delicious meal Alfred had cooked. Everything seemed better after eating Alfred's meal, even the little demon that was currently Robin. When Batman and Robin finally went on patrol, the Red Hood would reluctantly offer his services, though not very pleased for not being allowed to shot some scumbags.

They all knew the drill.

Jason was about to press the doorbell when he heard laughter. Not just any laughter, Dick Grayson's loud and happy laughter.

Slowly, Jason walked away from the main door and towards the sound of the laughter and other happy voices. He stood a few feet away from the widow and stared at the happy family inside watching an old black-and-white movie that he recognized as  _The Mark of Zorro_ , the movie Bruce had seen in theater with his parents before they were gunned down.

All the Robins were there, talking to each other, laughing, pointing at the screen and drinking what seemed to be milkshakes. Alfred placed a hand on Tim's shoulder and smiled at something that Dick said, while Damian threw his hands in the air and nudged his father. Bruce turned his head to Damian and said something before smiling warmly.

The snow had damped Jason's hoodie at this point. Snowflakes landing and melting on his face as he stood motionless in front of the window.

He was so stupid.

Slowly, the young man turned around and walked towards the gates and his motorcycle. He knew the motion sensors and the CCTV footage on the Manor had already captured his presence. If Bruce didn't check it tonight, he would know that Jason had been in his garden in morning. By that time, the outsider would be long gone.

He could still knock on the door and let himself in, force his presence. He could almost see how their smiles would vanish the moment he entered the room and ruined their happy night. Any words that would follow would be motivated by guilt and pity for not including him, but mostly for being caught by the Black Sheep in their happy family moment.

_Oh, Todd. When will you ever learn?_

Jason should have known his place by now. He was the soldier that Batman called when he needed him to fight, that was why he was only allowed in the Batcave while the Manor remained closed to him.

The Batcave was for missions, the Manor was for family, and Jason would never be family, not in the way the other Robins were.

He wasn't the Robin that was invited for dinner, movie nights or holidays. He wasn't the Robin that Bruce wished to immortalize in a family portrait.

No. He was the Robin who was  _volatile_ ,  _dangerous_ , and  _broken_. He was the Robin who remained immortalized in a costume in a case and an empty grave. He was the one who was always defined by his failures, the one who should be kept away unless Batman needed him to fight and would be forgotten as soon as he was out of sight.

That was what he was worth to Bruce and he had been an idiot for thinking that he could ever be anything else.

Jason glanced one last time at the window before putting on his helmet and got on his motorcycle.

He was done, too many doors had closed on his face and he should have known better to expect otherwise. He wasn't one of them, and Bruce was not his father, and he was a grown man who didn't need one now.

With a twinge in his chest, Jason sped away. There were no tears.

* * *

_Bruce_

When the movie ended and the screen faded to black, Damian was practically asleep on his chair. Dick stood up, ready to pick him up, but Bruce motioned to his eldest and took the little boy in his arms and tucked him into bed.

After closing the door, Bruce saw Dick and Tim walking towards their old bedrooms, both with red cheeks and sleepy eyes.

"Are you on patrol tonight, Boss?" Dick asked. "Because we don't mind to help. Just like old times."

Bruce had considered it but shook his head. "Not tonight. It's okay to take a night off once in a while."

Tim grinned. "Batman is taking a night off? Is that even possible?"

"Who are you and what have you done with our Bruce?" Dick joined in.

"Go to sleep," the older man said, walking towards the stairs. "Use this chance to get some rest."

He heard the boys laughing and talking as they went to their bedrooms. He would have done the same if Alfred hadn't shown up on the corridor, as vigilant as ever.

"Excuse me, sir. It seems the motion sensors caught something on the gardens tonight," the old butler said. "Do you wish to take a look?"

"Just the motion sensors?" Bruce was already walking to the computer and pulling the security feed. "There was no break in."

"Apparently, someone hacked the security and opened the gate. Around…" Alfred checked another computer monitor. "… nine thirty-two, pm."

Bruce remained silent and watched the CCTV footage. Sure enough, around nine thirty, a motorcycle stopped in front of the Manor and a familiar figure moved swiftly towards the electronic lock and opened the gate. Bruce held his breath as Jason Todd took off his helmet and walked towards the main entrance.

Bruce and Alfred watched as Jason noticed the light and commotion coming from the living room's widow. Bruce's stomach fell when the boy stood in front of the window in the middle of the snow, his face blank as he watched the family having a good time. Seventy-four seconds later, Jason turned around and left the Manor, speeding down the road until he disappeared into the dark and cold night.

"Oh dear…" Alfred whispered sadly.

Bruce pressed rewind and paused on Jason's unnatural impassive face, the dim lights from the movie as the only source of light. His eyes, however, were too bright.

"I assume you did not know he was coming over, Master Bruce," Alfred asked cautiously, also staring at Jason's face on the screen with a saddened expression.

"No, I didn't."

Bruce thought about the five times he had almost called Jason, but decided against it, telling himself that the Red Hood could be anywhere around the world and he wouldn't go to Gotham on purpose just to watch a movie, convinced that Jason wouldn't pick up the phone or that he would have just said no to the invitation.

He had no idea Jason was in Gotham, let alone that he was coming to the Manor. Once again, he pressed play and watched as the second Robin turned around and left.

' _Why didn't you come inside?'_  Bruce asked the silent recording.  _'Why did you leave?'_

"Is that Jason?"

Both men turned around and saw Tim by the door, already dressed in his pajamas. The sixteen-year-old peeked at the computer screen and moved closer to get a better look. Seconds later, Dick also showed up.

"What's going on?" the oldest Robin asked.

"Jason was here," Bruce said, Tim pressed the rewind button and watched the footage with Dick. "Tonight."

Dick sighed loudly, while Tim pressed his lips.

"You didn't ask him to come to the Manor?" Dick asked his former mentor.

"No. I didn't know he was in Gotham," Bruce explained.

Dick frowned. "Did you call him?"

"No."

Dick took a deep breath and stared once more at the screen. Tim, on the other hand, moved towards the door.

"It's only been two hours. He could still be in the city," Tim said. "I'll go talk to him."

"Wait! Tim! I'll go with you," Dick offered, but the younger boy shook his head.

"No. I'll go. If you show up, it's gonna end up in a fist fight."

Dick frowned. "Tim, you shouldn't go alone. If Jason is angry…"

"What? You think he's going to beat me up as an outlet?" Tim asked, moving closer to the older boy, eyes hard and almost offended. "He won't. I know him. I probably know him best out of all of us. You do know that he changed, don't you?"

Bruce remained silent as he watched Tim and Dick, not sure where he stood on the matter.

While he was stuck in the past after his battle against Darkseid, many things happened in his absence. Dick had taken over the role of Batman with Damian as Robin, thus replacing Tim. Moreover, Jason's madness had reached its peak, forcing Dick to send him to Arkham Asylum, something they all knew Jason would never truly forgive him for.

By the time Bruce was Batman again, the Red Hood had managed to break out of the Asylum and fought them on a few occasions. Jason's rage and hatred still burned strongly, but his methods became less brutal, as if he was losing his conviction. After missing for months, Jason sent a letter to Alfred, telling him that he had left Gotham for good and he did not intend to come back.

' _Tell Batman that he won'_ he wrote as the final sentence in the small letter.

Bruce had wanted to grab that letter, find Jason and shake him until he understood that it wasn't about winning or losing, there was nothing to win. He had wanted to tell Jason that he didn't have to leave at all. Instead, Bruce kept the letter and remained silent, secretly trying to find Jason across the globe. However, the Red Hood was well trained and knew how to cover his tracks, even after joining forces with Starfire and Roy Harper. The League wanted to stop them, capture them, but Batman intervened and vouched for them, for Jason. Back then, it was the only thing he could do to protect him.

He had no idea how Tim had managed to make amends with Jason after he also left Gotham. When they finally saw the Red Hood back in Gotham, Batman was surprised to see him fight alongside Red Robin, the replacement that Jason had begrudged and even tried to murder a few times.

Dick placed his finger over the bridge of his nose. "I know, Tim. We've been on missions with Jason many times. I know that he's changed. I trust him. We all do."

"Tt. Speak for yourself, Grayson."

They all stared at the door. Damian was leaning against the doorframe, glaring at both Dick and Tim.

"Master Damian, you should be asleep."

"The racket awoke me, Pennyworth," Damian answered coldly. "Leave it to Todd to disrupt everyone's night."

"Damian," Bruce said sternly, but it only seemed to anger his youngest son even more.

"It's the truth, Father. We were having a perfect… an  _acceptable_  night, until Todd, showed up and dragged us all into one of his dramas once more."

Bruce saw Tim close his hands into fists.

"Can you stop being an ass for a change, Damian?" Tim asked. "Jason didn't do anything. He showed up, saw us all together and left. It's the Portrait Sitting all over again. How would you feel if you were always left out?"

"I would  _not_  throw a temper tantrum like Todd probably is right now," Damian answered in derision, walking towards Tim. "Stop fooling yourself, Drake. The only reason you sought Todd's company was because Grayson turned his back on you!"

"Damian that is a  _lie_!" Dick growled, turning immediately to Tim. "That's not true, Tim. You know that, right?"

But Tim remained silent, his fists closed until they turned white.

"Besides, does Todd actually believe that he can come into this house as an equal ever again? He might be an ally in battle, but he'll always be a traitor and a murderer who tainted the Robin name."

"Damian,  _enough_!" Bruce finally stood up and loomed over the young, angry boy. "Don't ever say that again!"

Damian tried his hardest, but he still pouted as he stared at his father in anger. "I speak the truth. I'm just the only one who has the courage to say it. Todd is  _not_  part of my family!"

"Damian!" Dick exclaimed.

"Master Jason belongs to this family as much as you do, Master Damian," Alfred said calmly, even though Damian scoffed. "It is true that his past actions after his resurrection were regrettable, but he was suffering. He was hurt, scared and angry. You of all people should be able to understand."

Damian had the decency to look down. Just as Bruce thought that would be the end of it, the ten-year-old spoke again.

"I was killed too," the boy muttered. "Yet I never committed Todd's crimes. I did not blame anyone for my death."

"Your death was terrible, Damian, but it wasn't the same," Tim said, his voice firm but his eyes softened a bit. "When you came back, you still had your place. You're still Robin and Bruce..." Tim stared at Bruce, sad but determined. "Bruce tried everything to bring you back."

Both Damian and Dick stared at Bruce with wide eyes, while Alfred lowered his head. Bruce remained stoned face, his blue eyes never leaving Tim's. He wasn't angry at the teen for finally revealing the truth, but he would be lying if he said that was ready to face what he had done.

Then there was the implication of Tim's words. Bruce had tried everything to bring Damian back from the dead, but he didn't with Jason.

"Master Timothy… Master Bruce was blinded by grief," Alfred intervened. "He never meant to hurt you… or Master Jason."

"No, Alfred. Don't try to excuse me, I know what I did," Bruce looked Tim in the eyes. The young teen remained expressionless, but Bruce could still feel the hurt. "I am sorry, Tim. For everything that I said that day."

Tim lowered his eyes. "I know, Bruce. It's fine. I understand."

Bruce knew Tim wasn't being completely honest. There were things that could never be unsaid and actions that you couldn't take back no matter how much he wanted it.

"What happened?" Dick asked, facing his mentor. "Bruce, what did you do?"

The raven-haired man took a deep breath before facing Dick and Damian.

"After Damian was killed, I… I fell apart," he told them. "I couldn't deal with my grief. I was consumed by it. All I could think of was of all the people who had died and managed to come back, while my ten-year-old son was dead," Bruce stared at Damian's eyes, wide and blue. "I had to try and bring you back."

Dick moved closer, his usual bright blue eyes hard as stone. "What did you do, Bruce?"

"I captured Frankenstein. I was trying to figure out how he stayed alive," Bruce forced himself not to look away from Damian's horrified eyes or the shock on Dick's face.

"You were trying to play mad scientist?" Dick snapped. " _With Damian_?"

"I was willing to do whatever it took to bring him back, even if it was madness," Bruce answered. "But Tim stopped me. He blew up the entire lab before I could do anything. I said terrible things to him…" once more, Bruce turned to Tim, who remained still and expressionless. "I'm sorry, Tim. I wish I could take it all back. I know it's no excuse, but those words were spoken out of grief. I did not mean them."

The boy nodded, his face still blank. Bruce would have to talk to him later, just the two of them. He had been a fool to think he would just forget what had happened.

"And Jason?" Dick asked slowly. "Did you tell him terrible things too?"

Bruce looked away this time. He had been so confident back then, so certain that what he was doing was the right thing. If he could have Damian back, he would sacrifice Tim and Jason's feelings in a heartbeat. He figured it would be a small price to pay, that if they really loved him, they would understand and support his decision. Especially Jason, who had been dead once.

He hadn't thought of Jason at all that day on the desert, all he could think of was that Jason could know a way to bring Damian back and that he had to explore that. Jason's feelings were collateral damage and that seemed so easy to ignore at the time.

"After the Joker sabotaged his helmet with poisonous gas, Jason and I… we made peace, or at least we tried to," the Dark Knight finally said. "He stayed in the Manor until he recuperated from the attack and I asked him to come with me after some bounty hunters that had targeted Damian once."

Dick's eyes narrowed, Damian remained silent and expectant.

"In reality, it was just an excuse to take him back to Ethiopia," Dick's eyes widened while Damian gaped. "The Magdala Valley."

They didn't need to hear anything else. They all knew what Batman had meant to do by taking Jason back to the place where he had died.

" _No_ … Goddamnit, Bruce. No," Dick shook his head and closed his fists. "You wanted him to relieve his own death. How could you do that? You know how much pain that would cause him. You know how much he wants to forget that day and move on."

"Because I wanted to bring Damian back, Dick!" Bruce snapped, facing his eldest. "That's all that I could think of and Jason could have the answer. I wanted to watch Damian grow up! I wanted  _my son_  back!"

Bruce's words seemed to shock Dick. The older Robin glared at him, no sympathy in his eyes.

"So you threw Jason under the bus, just when he thought he could be part of this family again," Dick's voice was cold as the snow outside. "You basically told him that he wasn't your son, that he didn't matter."

Bruce backed down as if he had been slapped. "That's not true! I never said that!"

"You didn't have to and that's the worst part, Bruce. You used him," Dick pointed angrily at the computer screen. "No wonder he feels like an outsider."

"He knows he's part of the family! He knows that!" Bruce growled, even though he knew he was partly trying to convince himself. "He knows that he can come home."

"If he knew that, he wouldn't have left," Dick answered slowly. "When was the last time you ever called him just to talk or to come over to the Manor? Every time you call him, it's for a mission. You keep treating him like a soldier."

"That is  _not_  true!"

"Father…"

Their arguing was silenced by Damian's soft voice. Bruce stared at his son, whose young eyes were fixed on Jason's blank face on the screen.

"Father… you betrayed Todd."

Bruce opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He could deny Dick's accusations, but Damian's soft words left him speechless.

He could still see Jason's face when he realized that Bruce that brought him back to the place where he had been beaten and killed, the way the light in his eyes died and his face fell as he stared at the old wreckage.

" _You lied to me. This wasn't about taking down those mercenaries. You wanted to bring me here… to the worst place in the world… And here I was starting to believe all your crap about trust and faith…"_

Bruce looked yet again the screen and the boy standing alone in the middle of the snow, knowing that he had failed Jason again. Every move he made was the wrong one. Every word he said only seemed to push Jason further away instead of showing him how much he meant to him.

He wanted Jason to come home. I'd always wanted it, ever since he realized it was him under the red helmet. The problem was that Bruce had no idea how to make him see that and when he tried, they ended up fighting, resentment, guilt and Joker's laughter still looming over them like a dark cloud.

So it became easier to not say anything and just hope that somehow Jason would come home on his own. He thought that if he showed Jason that he trusted him to fight by his side it would be enough.

But it wasn't.

"I'll go find him," Bruce finally said.

"We'll come with you," Dick said, but Bruce stopped him.

"No. This is between Jason and me. It's about time we have a serious talk," Bruce looked at his sons, they weren't convinced. "Please."

Dick placed a hand on both Tim and Damian's shoulders. "Tell Jay we'll be waiting."

Bruce nodded and walked towards the Batcave's entrance. Within minutes, the Batmobile sped into Gotham's white streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first chapter. I hope you liked it. In the next chapter, Bruce and Jason have their talk.
> 
> The scenes of Tim and Jason are from the comics. Bruce tried to dissect Frankenstein on Batman and Red Robin #19. Bruce and Jason made up on Red Hood and the Outlaws #17 and #18. Then Bruce had the bright idea to bring Jason to Ethiopia on Batman and Red Hood #20.
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you thought of it so far.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you so much for all the comments, faves and kudos! They mean so much to me and I'm so happy you guys enjoyed the first chapter.
> 
> Second, I am so SORRY. I promised this fic would be two chapters, but it grew out of control and it's gonna be three. Sorry for not being able to finish this with two chapters.
> 
> I hope you'll like this nonetheless.

_Jason_

Pauli’s Dinner was always full, especially during the holidays.

It was placed near the center of Gotham on a nice street that managed not to be destroyed during the one of city’s many catastrophes. The food was good and cheap, the staff were nice and the place was clean (both the establishment and financially). Jason considered it one of Gotham’s treasures.

He sat in the corner booth, finishing his dinner and listening to other peoples’ conversations. From time to time, he stared at the simple Christmas tree near the entrance.

When he was a little kid, Christmas was far from being a joyous occasion on the Todd household. Back when his father was still around, it usually meant lots of drinking and arguing between his parents and a few beatings before Willis stormed off the house to be with his loser friends while Jason tried to comfort his bruised and drunken mother. He had learned to ignore his own bruises and swallow his tears from an early age, when he realized no one would bother to comfort him and because he had to take care of his mother.

He would lie down with his mom on her bed, stroking her strawberry colored hair and kissing her tear stained cheeks softly as he whispered that he loved her very much and would take care of her forever.

After Willis was arrested and killed in jail, things got even worse.

Catherine Todd woke up to a nightmare every day when she realized how her life had turned out. At twenty-seven years old, she was a widow with no job and no money, living in a shitty house with a nine-year-old kid that was the result of three bottles of cheap wine, hormones and a lack of condoms. That wasn’t the life she had dreamed of and she turned to the sweet release of drugs to flee from all of it.

Meanwhile, Jason spent the holidays trying his best to take care of his mother by keeping her warm in their freezing house, stealing food and clothes from their more fortunate neighbors, fighting off her dealers and cleaning her puke when she missed the toilet or the sink.

One particularly bad night, he threw a perverted dealer out of their house with a baseball bat after he tried to force his mother to pay her addiction with her body.

“It’s okay, mom. It’s okay,” he told her as she vomited into the toilet, rubbing her back as tenderly as he could. “It’s going to be okay… don’t cry. I’m here…”

Catherine suddenly turned around and slapped him hard in the face.

“ _You!_ This is all _your_ fault!” she growled furiously at the stunned boy kneeling in front of her. “Stupid fucking brat, just like your father! You ruined my life!”

Jason’s lower lip trembled as his eyes filled with tears. “Mom…”

“I should have had an abortion when I had the chance!” Catherine snapped before breaking down into tears.

He couldn’t hold back his own tears, so he ran out of the house into the cold streets. He sought refuge in an abandoned building in Crime Alley and cried his eyes out away from prying eyes and ears, his cheek throbbing and his young heart broken.

When he finally came back at dawn, freezing and soaked to the bone, his mother was fast asleep on the sofa. She never mentioned that night again, most likely because she didn’t remember it.

Jason forgave her, of course. He knew his mom was high at the time, she was sick and one of her dealers had almost raped her. She was upset and people said all sort of things when they were sad.

Nevertheless, Jason never forgot the way his mother had stared at him that night, as if she hated him and wanted him gone. No matter how much he told himself that she didn’t mean it, a part of him always wondered if she was finally being honest with herself.

He wasn’t naïve. He knew his conception was not celebrated. Willis and Catherine would never have gotten married if she hadn’t been pregnant and his birth just caused more problems in their messed up marriage.

Nineteen years later, both Willis and Catherine were dead while Jason had died and was brought back by a conniving woman and a magic pit. Life sucked.

Holding his hot coffee in his hands, Jason glared at the TV screen on the dinner. _It’s a Wonderful Life_ was on and it didn’t help his already bad mood.

If Catherine had an abortion, would she still be alive today? Would she have the life she had always wanted with a loving husband, a nice house and cute and sweet kids?

If Jason had never been born, would both his parents be happy? Would Bruce?

It was a dumb question. If Jason had never existed, Bruce would still be Batman, Dick would still be the Golden Boy and Tim probably would have become Robin sooner. The only thing Jason’s absence would change was Joker’s victory at killing a Robin, thus erasing one of Batman’s greatest failures.

What had Jason brought into Batman’s life but more darkness and pain?

Ignoring the twinge in his chest, Jason drank the hot coffee, paid his meal and left the dinner. He had already left his motorcycle and helmet in his hideout, so he walked down the still busy street, with his hood covering most of his face and his hands in his pockets.

Truth was, Bruce didn’t need Jason. Sure, the Red Hood could be useful, but he wasn’t indispensable. As Batman had proved over the years, Jason was easily replaceable by more skillful allies that did what they were told and met his expectations. He didn’t need broken soldiers that he couldn’t fix.

Bruce had plenty of people in his life, he didn’t need Jason in his family. He wasn’t like Dick who brought light into his dark world, he wasn’t like Tim who gave him the stability he needed, he wasn’t like Damian, his real son, who he had tried to bring back to life so desperately, whose resurrection brought so much joy.

Alfred had told him that his death was as equally painful as Damian’s, but the old man was wrong. No one had been glad to see Jason alive again and he knew that he was at fault for that, not that it mattered now.

His phone buzzed in his coat pocket as he made a turn towards an emptier street. Jason took off one of his gloves and took the call.

“Hey, Harper,” the raven answered.

 _‘Jaybird! You wouldn’t believe how much garbage stinks!’_ Roy Harper said. _‘It smells really bad!’_

Jason frowned. “You’re calling me to tell me that garbage stinks?”

 _‘No. I’m venting to you about how much garbage stinks after spending three hours swimming in it. I’m gonna punch Ollie,’_ the archer hissed. _‘I have trash in my ears!’_

“Been there, done that,” Jason chuckled. “Watch out for the used condoms!”

Roy went silent for a few seconds. Jason could almost imagine his horrified face.

_‘Fuck! Now I’m going to throw up. Thanks a lot!’_

 “What are friends for?”

 _‘You’re not doing a very good job! I have to wash with bleach’_ Roy said. _‘But anyway… how are the Dark Knight and the data sharing? Did he like it?’_

“It… it didn’t go well,” Jason said slowly, turning a corner. “I’m going back to the hideout tonight.”

The line went silent again.

 _‘I’m sorry, Jason,’_ Roy said softly, all traces of his usual cheerfulness gone from his voice.

“It’s alright, Roy.”

_‘No. No, it’s not. Is there something that I can do? Oliver’s mission is basically over…’_

“No, Roy. I’m fine. Seriously,” Jason interrupted. “I want you to finish the mission. Stay with Queen. I know how much you want this to work out.”

_‘Jaybird…’_

“I know what it’s like to be the shitty sidekick, so show Queen what you got and how much of a douche he was for kicking you out,” Jason said. “I mean it, Harper. If I see you back at the hideout before Monday, I’ll kick your sorry ass.”

 _‘Jason… thank you,’_ Roy said so quietly. _‘If you need anything, call me.’_

“Alright. Now go back to work, Harper.”

 _‘I will and Jason… you were a great Robin. I’m not saying it because we’re friends, I used to watch you on TV. You were amazing,’_ Roy exclaimed proudly. _‘Batman is a blind asshole if he can’t see that.’_

Jason stopped under a lamp in an empty street and smiled. “Thanks, Roy.”

As he ended the call, Jason heard the sound of heavy boots against metal above him, the faint flapping of a cape in the winter wind.

“Batman,” he said before looking up.

The Dark Knight was standing on the fire escape ladder above him, staring at him through the cowl, his face as emotionless as ever.

“Red Hood,” Batman said.

Jason felt his anger starting to boil inside of him. So, the Bat had seen the intruder in the CCTV footage and left his comfortable home to face the big, bad Red Hood. He looked around and waited, but it seemed his birds were not coming to this awkward meeting. Good for them.

The two remained silent, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Jason knew what Batman expected from him, it was written all over his tense body language. He expected Jason to lash out and pick a fight. He was probably surprised to see that he had not vented his anger on some criminals like he used to in his first days as the Red Hood.

 _I’m not that predictable, old man_ , Jason thought bitterly while his face remained as blank as his former mentor. _And I’m not going to make this easy for you. I have no interest on your guilt or your pity._

Because Jason knew _that_ was the real reason why Batman had bothered to look for him. Guilt for not including Jason in his family night and pity for the pathetic former sidekick watching them in the snow. Jason didn’t know which one made him feel angrier.

_You don’t need me, Bruce. You don’t even want me there, so… stop. Just stop. Stop pretending we’re something we’re not._

Jason grabbed the USB drive from one of his pockets and tossed it to the Dark Knight, who caught it easily before staring confusedly at Jason.

“It’s the intel on Armand Bavelier that you asked,” he explained blankly, no hint of emotion in his voice. “All I could find it’s in there.”

To Batman’s surprise, Jason started walking towards the next street, which was far busier and thus making it impossible for Batman to talk to him without drawing unwanted attention.

“Jason!” Batman yelled as the raven boy walked away. “Wait!”

Jason stopped but didn’t turn around. He could hear Batman jumping off the ladder to the ground behind him and his steps in the snow as he walked towards his direction. He was close enough that Jason could hear him breathe.

_Don’t do this, Bruce. Leave me alone. Please._

“Jason, I…”

“Don’t!” Jason snapped, his fists closed and his head low. Behind him, Batman went silent.

They had done this before. The yelling, the accusations, the punches, the apologies, they had done it all and nothing ever changed. They kept coming back to where they started. There was no point and Jason was tired.

Jason was so tired.

“Go home, Bruce,” he said quietly. “Go back to your family.”

With that, Jason walked into the busy street and disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

 

_Bruce_

It would have been better if Jason had punched him.

When he had to face someone, Bruce automatically tried to predict how they would react to his presence or what they would say. It was part of his training, ingrained into his brain. Batman had to be prepared for anything if he wanted to catch criminals, save lives or even save himself. Being surprised could mean death.

The common thugs were easy to predict (either fear, anger, arrogance or violence), some of his enemies were more difficult, the Joker never ceased to shock him no matter how many times he faced the clown.  

He also tried to predict his Robins, even though he probably shouldn’t.

Batman had expected to find the Red Hood beating a mob of criminals into a bloody pulp. He even feared Jason had broken their unspoken rule in his fury and killed a few of said criminals. He expected an angry confrontation with the Red Hood followed by punches.

Instead, he found Jason dressed in civilian clothes eating at a dinner by himself.

Batman followed the former Robin down the busy streets from the roofs, unintentionally listening to pieces of his phone conversation with Roy Harper. When Jason finally finished the call, Batman jumped to the fire escape ladder and braced himself for the boy’s anger.

It didn’t come.

Jason had faced him with the same blank expression he had seen in the footage before giving him the USB drive and simply leaving. Bruce was taken aback. The whole speech he had prepared in his head gone as he watched his second Robin walking away from him.

“Jason! Wait!”

The raven boy stopped, but he didn’t face Bruce. He stood where he was as Batman slowly walked in his direction, with his back to him.

“Jason, I…”

“Don’t!”

Batman’s mouth closed as he stared at the boy’s back. He watched his muscles tense, his hands closing into trembling fists, head slowly lowering, and waited for the inevitable outburst.

Instead, Bruce heard a whisper.

“Go home, Bruce. Go back to your family.”

Bruce heartstrings pulled painfully. A punch would have hurt a lot less than those sad words filled with loneliness. He wasn’t fast enough to stop Jason from running into the busy street, leaving Batman staring at his footsteps in the snow, his heart heavy and throbbing painfully in his chest.

When Bruce took Jason to Ethiopia, aside from some sort of valuable information on how to resurrect Damian, he had also expected an angry confrontation. In fact, he had wanted it.

He had provoked Jason into beating him and got exactly what he wanted. Bruce had been seeing red for weeks as the sadness of Damian’s death gave away to an unbearable rage. He wanted to make someone pay, make someone bleed, it didn’t matter who it was. Those lowlife mercenaries who had targeted his child, Talia for killing him, God or the Universe for once again taking away someone he loved…

In end, he beat up Jason.

* * *

 

_“If you cared about me and what’ve lost, you’d want to dredge this up!” Bruce yelled. “Don’t you see? There’s a chance you can help erase one of the worst days of **my** life, Jason! You can give me the greatest gift of all and help me figure out how to bring my son back!”_

_Jason glared at him, angry and betrayed._

_“Yeah, and what about me? How about the gift of not knowing that the Joker manipulated my whole life, huh? The clown tainted everything… the good… the bad… Hell, my life’s even been tainted by **you!** ”_

_Bruce felt another twinge on his already bleeding heart._

_“Don’t ever say that… it’s not true!”_

_Jason’s fist met his jaw. “No? Then why are you making me stand in the exact spot where he beat me to death?!”_

_Rage felt like blood in his mouth and it was all Bruce need to finally punch the young man. He unleashed everything into his fists, his sorrow, his guilt, his rage. He put them all into punches._

_“ **Why?** I’ll tell you why?”_

_“I’m all ears!”_

_He didn’t see Jason in front of him. He didn’t see his former partner or his adopted son. He saw a person that could help bring his child back to him but refused for selfish reasons. A person who had been dead and had come back, while his son was still gone._

_“Because I want to watch Damian grow up, damn it!” Bruce growled._

_Bruce’s punch knocked Jason to the ground. The boy fell on the dirt, his lip split and bleeding while Batman stood above him, seething. His black gloves dirty with Jason’s blood._

_“Damian earned that right! And I want to give it to him!”_

_Jason stared at him, his blue eyes hard and hurt._

_“You’ve got nothing left to give, Bruce! I was ready to stand by your side but you’ve thrown it all away!”_

_They kept fighting but it wasn’t enough for Bruce. Jason was holding back and he wanted anger, pain. He wanted to fight the pain away just as much as he wanted to be punished for letting Damian die._

_He took off his cowl, stood over the bleeding Red Hood and demanded he gave him the fight and rage he craved._

_“Here I am! Take a good, long look!” Bruce snarled at the fallen young man at his feet. “I trained you better than that! C’mon! Get up! **Hit me!** ”_

_And Jason gave him exactly what he wanted. He punched Bruce several times, each one stronger than the last._

_Until he suddenly stopped, his arms falling to his sides._

_“I’m still standing, Jason,” Bruce said, blood dripping from his mouth._

_Jason faced his mentor, his face hard as stone, before turning around and walking away._

_“I’m taking the car,” the boy said, grabbing his red helmet. ”Goodbye, Bruce.”_

_He left Bruce standing alone in the desert with only his thoughts for company under the night sky. It was when the Batmobile finally disappeared into the horizon, that Bruce realized what he had done._

_There was no satisfaction after their fight, no relief, just pain. Bruce had felt hollow, Jason’s words still ringing in his ears. His rage couldn’t distract him from his sorrow anymore and all he could feel was sad._

_He had ruined everything. All the progress he had made with Jason, the hope of finally bring him back home were shattered the moment the boy saw the wreckage._

_He had come to that terrible place hoping to bring back his son only to lose another._

* * *

 

That night, Bruce did nothing but watch Jason’s back as he left. He had accepted it and given up. Weeks later, when he decided to go to Apokolips to save Damian he had hoped his words about truth and trust could mend the cracks he had created. It meant the world to him that, after everything that had happened and everything he had done, Barbara and the boys were willing to risk their lives to bring Damian back.

However, that was not enough. It did not erase what he had done and said.

_“Go back to your family.”_

He was losing Jason and damn it, he didn’t know what to do.

Batman jumped to the nearest roof and followed Jason’s red hooded head through the crowd and the increasing snow. He was hoping the boy would go back to one of his hideouts in the city, so he could drop by and talk to him again, but he had no such luck. Jason was hell bent on leaving Gotham.

When it was announced that all flights were canceled because of the snowstorm, Jason went to the train station. Hacking the security cameras, Batman saw him buy a one-way ticket to Florida.

There was no way he could go to Jason unnoticed in the station and even if he did he couldn’t stop him from leaving if that was what he wanted. Jason clearly didn’t want to talk to him and what right did Bruce have to force him to hear his excuses? What could he say to him without making the existing gap between them even bigger?

Bruce’s father would know what to do. Thomas Wayne always seemed to know exactly what to say to make him feel better.

Maybe it was the eight-year-old in him that never got to see his father as a man with flaws. To Bruce, his father would always be the loving, caring, wise man that knew exactly what to do at all times. In Bruce’s eyes, Thomas Wayne would always be the perfect father.

Compared to him, Bruce felt like a complete failure.

“Well, this is a surprise,” a woman’s voice said right of the building where he was standing. “It’s been a long time, Batman.”

Batman dropped gracefully to the ground, standing right next to her.

“Doctor Thompkins.”

Leslie Thompkins smiled kindly, her hands inside her parka while people talked inside the building behind her. Bruce had barely noticed that he was near her clinic.

If there was hope in Crime Alley, her name was Leslie Thompkins. Against everyone’s better judgment, Leslie had decided to open a free clinic in the worst place in Gotham city in order to get medical attention to those who couldn’t afford it.

Good or bad people, it didn’t matter to Leslie. She treated everyone who sought her help, be it a mother of five or a convicted criminal. Every life mattered to her and everyone deserved to be saved.

Thomas Wayne had been her colleague and helped her open the clinic. Recently, Bruce donated large amounts of money to help her keep her clinic running, while she treated the same thugs he beat up at night. Her skilled hands had also treated Batman himself on more than one occasion.

“You seem lost in thought,” Leslie said walking towards the Caped Crusader at ease.

Batman nodded. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. Busy night?”

“It’s always busier when it’s cold, but I decided to take a break,” the doctor answered, staring at her windows where her patients rested and talked. “Funny, you’re the second visitor I had tonight.”

Batman frowned. “Second?”

Leslie smiled and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Our mutual red hooded friend, Jason,” she told him. “It seems like yesterday he was bleeding on my front door, beaten and starving. Do you remember how you met him?”

“I could never forget,” Batman answered sincerely.

* * *

 

_The first time he saw Jason Todd, the boy was running out the window of Leslie’s clinic holding a box of prescription drugs. Batman intervened immediately and tossed the little thief against a car._

_The boy struggled, but it was like fighting a bag of bones, though Batman had to admit he threw one heck of a punch for someone that scrawny._

_“Stop! Please, Batman let him go!” Leslie Thompkins screamed, running towards them._

_“This boy stole from you, Doctor,” Batman replied, still holding the boy who had gone still in his arms the moment he saw the doctor._

_“I know. He wouldn’t have done it if he had any other choice,” Leslie explained, her sad eyes meeting Jason’s who looked away in shame. “Please, Batman. He was just trying to survive.”_

_Batman looked closely at the boy. His first reaction was surprise. Despite the worn-out dirty clothes, the bruises and cuts; the kid looked a lot like Dick with his raven hair and blue eyes._

_Every inch of the boy’s body was filled with anger and defiance, his eyes hard and devoid of childish innocence. Those eyes caught Batman’s attention more than anything and stirred something inside him._

_No child should have eyes like that. It reminded him too much of his own._

_“Very well.”_

_He released the boy from his grasp, who quickly picked up the drugs he had stolen and meekly returned them to Doctor Thompkins._

_“I’m sorry, Doc,” he muttered, too ashamed to face her._

_“It’s fine,” she told him, but her smile visibly made the kid feel even worse._

_“What’s your name?” Batman asked, earning him another glare from the boy._

_“Why do you wanna know? What is it to you anyway?” he snarled back, ready to fight him or flee if necessary._

_Batman crossed his arms over his massive chest, towering over the boy. He was impressed when the kid didn’t look away but faced him fearlessly._

_“Where are your parents?” Batman asked instead, never taking his eyes off the boy._

_The kid shrugged and put his hands in his sweatshirt pockets._

_“My old man got busted for drugs,” the boy answered. “He got killed in jail.”_

_“And your mother?”_

_The boy’s lower lip quivered and his arms slumped. For the first time, he looked sad._

_“She’s dead. She got sick, okay?”_

_Batman expression softened as he stared at the orphan child. “I’m sorry.”_

_“No, you’re not. You didn’t even know her!” the kid cried out, hurt and rage oozing from his words._

_“You’re right, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care,” Batman said, fighting the urge to place a hand on the kid’s shoulder. The boy probably wasn’t used to people caring for him and that made him feel even worse. “How long have you been living in the streets, son?”_

_“Long enough. I know how to take care of myself,” the boy answered. “And don’t call me son. I’m no one’s son.”_

_Despite the boy’s confrontational attitude, the Dark Knight moved closer, watching closely as the boy tensed and prepared himself for a beating. He immediately stopped and lowered his arms. The way the kid stared at him broke his heart._

_“I’m not going to hurt you,” Batman said softly but firmly. “But I can’t just leave you here in the streets.”_

_The boy’s eyes widened with both fear and contempt. “You’re gonna fink to the cops, huh? Figures.”_

_“Not the cops. I think we do have to tell the juvenile authorities about you…”_

_“ **Social workers?**  Give me a break!” the boy interrupted angrily.  “I can fend for myself just fine! I know how to make it on the streets… and I like it here!”_

_Batman seriously doubted someone would like to live on the streets, but this kid was stubborn._

_“I don’t want to wind up on some crummy orphanage or some foster home with ten other kids where I’ll just be another meal ticket. I’m doing just fine on my own!”_

_Batman closed his eyes. The worst part was that he knew the kid was right, but he couldn’t just leave him in the streets of Crime Alley all alone. He had already been severely beaten, probably more than once. It was just a matter of time before he was gunned down or stabbed to death, among several terrible things that could happen to a young boy in that place._

_Batman couldn’t allow that to happen. He would never be able to live with himself._

_“You can’t stay here,” the Dark Knight insisted, ignoring the boy’s protests. “A kid like you shouldn’t be living in the streets. You deserve better than **this** ,” he pointed at the prescription drugs on Leslie hands._

_The boy looked down._

_“Why do you care? You’re Batman. Why would you care about some stupid street kid like me?”_

_“I think you’re far from stupid,” Batman answered softly._

_The boy stared at the Dark Knight, his blue eyes wide with surprise. Probably trying to catch the Bat vigilante lying, since there was no way the most feared hero in Gotham had just told him that he wasn’t stupid, that he deserved more than the streets._

_“It’s Jason,” he muttered. “My name, I mean. Jason Todd.”_

_Batman nodded, his lip bent into a small smile. “Nice to meet you, Jason.”_

_After Leslie asked Jason to take the prescription drugs back to the clinic, she and Batman discussed what they could do for the boy. Like Jason, Leslie was convinced that the foster system would never work for a kid like him._

_“He’s too old and he most likely already has a record. Behavior problems, theft, physical and emotional abuse… No one will adopt him,” the doctor said dejectedly. “He’ll be out on the streets in less than a month.”_

_“We can’t leave him in the streets, Doctor,” Batman said, even though he agreed with her. “He’s going to get killed.”_

_“I know. Jason needs a home. He needs a family,” her eyes met Batman’s. “Unfortunately, there aren’t a lot of goodhearted people in Gotham willing to give him a chance.”_

_By the time Jason left the clinic, Batman was waiting for him on the Batmobile. After swearing that he wasn’t going to drop Jason on an orphanage, the boy reluctantly got in the car. Bruce would never forget Jason’s face when he arrived at the entrance of Wayne Manor and saw Alfred standing at the door._

_Batman told him he was going to stay with Bruce Wayne for two weeks while he recuperated from his injuries, much to the boy’s bewilderment. During that time, Jason followed Alfred around the Manor, asking questions and trying to get reactions out of the impassive butler._

_Alfred had been wary of Bruce’s decision in the beginning, not only because of Bruce’s recent fight with Dick, which resulted in the boy leaving for Blüdhaven, but also because he feared they wouldn’t be able to help a rebellious boy like Jason. However, as time went by, Bruce noticed that his old butler was growing increasingly attached to the young boy, secretly delighted to answer his questions and making sure he was well fed._

_On the other hand, Bruce wasn’t planning on keeping Jason when he brought him to the Manor. He spent the first week finding everything he could on Jason’s parents and looking for relatives who would be willing to look after the boy. What he found left him both angry and heartbroken._

_Willis Todd had a long criminal record even before he got married. He had been charged with petty theft to murder on several occasions and he never had been able to keep a steady job all his life. Willis had been caught using his son to steal seven times before his fifth birthday and both the child and Catherine Todd had been admitted to the hospital with broken bones and bruises from "falling down the stairs" on more than one occasion._

_After Willis incarceration and death at the hand of the other inmates, Catherine’s health took a turn for the worst when she began using drugs to try to ease her depression. She had died of an overdose._

_Willis parents and siblings had already passed away. Catherine’s parents had also died and she was an only child. Bruce tried to contact some of Catherine’s other living relatives, but they all refused to even acknowledge Jason as a family member. Even using the Wayne’s name and money, Catherine’s relatives wanted nothing to do with Jason, claiming that Catherine had died to them the moment she had been knocked up and married Willis and that they had no interest in Todd’s bastard child._

_Bruce felt like punching each and every one of them. Jason was better than all of them combined._

_Jason had taken care of his mother from a young age, when it should have been the other way around. He had stayed with his mother during her drug abuse, he had protected her until the very end. It was a kind of strength that very few people had. Any parent would have been lucky to have him as a son._

_Jason had deserved so much better._

_As days went by, Bruce found himself getting used to the boy’s presence in the Manor. Jason had been very suspicious of him, expecting a beating with every sudden movement and apprehensive of every soft touch. Both Bruce and Alfred found stashes of food hidden in his room and suspected that he was ready to run away at any moment._

_When they didn’t give him any motive to think they were going to mistreat him, Jason expected them to kick him out. It didn’t matter how many times they both told him that they wouldn’t tell him to leave, Jason didn’t believe them.  No one had ever wanted him, so he wouldn’t allow himself to think otherwise._

_Despite that, Bruce made sure to spend every meal with Jason and Alfred. He encouraged Jason to talk, even when the boy thought his questions were stupid. He showed him every room in the Manor and answered all his questions. At night, when he got home from patrol, Bruce always checked Jason’s room, not only to make sure that he didn’t run away during the night but also to see if was sleeping comfortably._

_He had decided to send Jason to a very prestigious School for troubled boys that his mother had founded, he had no doubt that School would be able to give Jason the education he needed to build a better future. However, as the end of the second week approached, Bruce found himself feeling uneasy._

_He had grown too attached to the boy with his mischievous grin, loud voice and snarky remarks. To think that Jason wouldn’t be in the house anymore, made Bruce’s heart feel heavier. He hadn’t felt that way since he had adopted Dick._

_Bruce realized that he didn’t want Jason to leave._

_“I’m feeling better, Mr. Wayne,” Jason said on the morning of the last day. “I’m gonna go now. You don’t have to count the silverware or nothing.”_

_Still dressed in his pajamas, sitting on his couch, Bruce made his decision._

_“Before you go… I want to show you something, Jason.”_

_Bruce had not realized that his family was incomplete, until the moment he met that boy. Therefore, he showed Jason his biggest secret and told him everything. In the end, he asked him if he wanted to become Robin._

_“Hell, yes!” was Jason’s enthusiastic response._

* * *

 

Leslie smiled, also thinking of the red hooded boy she had helped all those years ago.

“He’s all grown up now. Very handsome too,” she said, glancing at Batman. “He got adopted, you know?”

Batman nodded. He suspected that Leslie knew who he really was, but she never confronted him about it and he did the same.

“Does he visit you often?” the Dark Knight asked.

“When he’s in town, he usually takes the time to drop by. I think there’s some friction between him and his family,” Leslie rubbed her hands. “He seemed a little upset today.”

Batman lowered his head. “It makes you wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If we made the right decision all those years ago,” Batman answered. “He suffered, Doctor Thompkins. He faced horrible things that no one should ever go through. Makes you wonder if he would have been better if I had left him with the authorities.”

Bruce had never been a good father, and he had failed Jason on every way possible. In the end, what had he given Jason but death and sorrow? He had gotten Jason killed and he wasn’t there for him when he got back from the dead.

If he had sent him to that School, Jason would probably be in college right now, instead of fighting mercenaries and dreaming of deranged clowns.

Leslie faced Batman for a few seconds.

“Do you think that Bruce Wayne regrets adopting Jason?” she asked carefully.

Batman’s eyes widened under his cowl as he stared at the doctor. “What? No. He doesn’t regret it, I’m sure of it,” Leslie kept staring at him. “That was _not_ what I meant.”

“I know. You meant to say that if you hadn’t brought Jason to Bruce Wayne, none those terrible things would have happened,” she said. “However, that would also mean that Bruce Wayne would never have adopted him. Jason would not be part of his family. It’s a sad thought nonetheless.”

Because Batman didn’t know what to answer that, he remained quiet.

“He thinks very little of himself. Jason,” Leslie added noticing Batman’s surprised face. “Bruce tried to make his adoption as private as possible, but it still caused quite the scandal. First, he adopted a circus boy, then a street kid from Crime Alley? Many people thought it was publicity stunt, or that he had gone crazy.”

Batman tried to hide his contempt under his cowl. He remembered the rumors, the hushed voices, those petty articles in the papers. He ignored them, just like he ignored everything else that people said about him, but he didn’t like when they talked and speculated about the boys. He had lost his temper when a lousy reporter published an article that implied that Dick’s parents were sexual deviants and every time Jason was referred as _‘white trash’_ by the media. A few reporters had lost their jobs because of that.

He knew the boys had felt annoyed by the media spotlight sometimes, but he never thought they were very bothered by it. They never told him.

“You think Jason believed what they said?”

“No, but I think he didn’t like to be compared so often with Richard. It was inevitable though,” Leslie answered. “Richard was polite and cheerful, he made friends wherever he went. He was very easy to love. Jason, on the other hand, was crude, rebellious and had a temper. He constantly got into fights and he wasn’t well liked. It was no secret that people preferred Richard and he knew it.”

Batman remained silent, but his brain was racing. He knew Dick and Jason were different, he accepted it. Maybe he had compared Jason to Dick on more than a few occasions, but he never would ask Jason to be like Dick. All the boys were different and had their own unique strengths. He didn’t want them to be anyone but themselves.

Bruce wasn’t oblivious. He had seen how Jason tried to surpass Dick’s records during training, how he refused to listen to Nightwing during patrol and how annoyed he got every time he was compared to Dick. There was nothing Bruce could do about it, Dick was the first Robin. He was already an exceptional acrobat before he started training him. Jason had nothing but his unbreakable willpower and the strength he was forced to gain if he wanted to live in a crime-filled world.

“It shouldn’t be a competition,” Batman finally said.

Leslie laughed.

“I can tell you are an only child,” she grinned when she saw his face. “Brothers fight. They compare themselves to each other and fight for the love and approval of their parents. Especially, when said parent has very high standards. ”

“A good parent loves their children equally. They shouldn’t have to fight for it,” Batman answered as neutrally as he could because that was what he believed. He did love all his boys. Maybe he hadn’t shown it or said it, but they should know how he felt.

“It’s very easy for a child to feel that they’re not loved as much as their siblings. Children like Jason, who grow up feeling unwanted, are particularly insecure. They expect to be told that they’re not loved, that they don’t matter. At least, not in the way the _good_ sons, the _real_ sons are,” Leslie told him and Bruce felt a coldness that had nothing to do with the snow. “He’s the bad son, the one who continuously messes up and can’t measure up to his more talented brothers. The eternal Black Sheep. He still thinks of himself as a failure.”

Bruce felt a painful lump on his throat, his heart aching in his chest.

 _“I know what it’s like to be the shitty sidekick,”_ he heard Jason say to Roy Harper.

_That is not true. Why do you think of yourself like that? What did I do wrong to make you think so lowly of yourself?_

“He shouldn’t… he’s not a failure. He never was,” Bruce’s voice was coming out, not Batman’s. “He’s wanted and he’s loved. He has a family and I tried…,” he bit his lower lip. “He didn’t have to _leave_.”

Leslie stared at the snow falling in the pavement.

“It’s easier… it’s safer to be the one who leaves,” she caught a snowflake with her gloved hand. “If you leave, you won’t give people the opportunity to reject you. You won’t let them hurt you, no matter how much you want to be part of a family.”

Batman lowered his eyes and nodded. “It’s the people you love, that hurt you the most.”

Leslie smiled kindly, still staring at the snow.

“It always amazes me how much Jason reminds me of his father.”

Batman frowned at Leslie. He had never met Willis Todd in person, but from what he knew of the man, he was an abusive thug and a drunk who only thought about himself. Jason was nothing like him.

“Willis wasn’t…”

“Not Willis. Bruce Wayne,” Leslie interrupted and stared Batman’s stunned face. “Willis may have fathered him, but Jason is Bruce’s son, in every way possible. Bruce was the father who choose him, who loved him when no one else did. _He_ is Jason’s father, no matter how imperfect and how many mistakes he made. He was the father who _cared_.”

Bruce kept staring at the doctor, her words hitting him right in his aching chest. Because, _that_ was the fundamental truth. He _was_ Jason’s father.

All the boys were his sons, but he had kept a certain limits with Dick and Tim. John Grayson had been a good man and father, Jack Drake was still alive and proved constantly how much he loved Tim. Bruce didn’t want to take the place of their fathers, even though he loved them as if they were of his blood. Damian was the blood son he didn’t even know that he had, and thus he wanted to be the best father he could to him and give him the life he deserved.

Jason’s father, however, had abused and mistreated his son. Willis Todd might have had some sort of affection for his only child, but he clearly loved himself more and never placed his son’s well-being above his own. Willis didn’t deserve Jason and Bruce…

Bruce loved that bright, stubborn and angry boy.

It didn’t matter what Jason thought, how much they fought, or what had happened. Jason’s death and his resurrection didn’t change anything, even when he had been at the peak of his madness. It didn’t matter how much Jason hated him, he would always be Bruce’s son. It was about time Bruce started to act like it.

Goddamnit, he was not going to lose his son.

“Thank you, Doctor Thompkins,” Batman said, flying away using his grappling hook.

“You’re welcome,” the doctor said to the empty street before going back to her waiting patients.

* * *

 

  _Jason_

The midnight train was almost empty, probably because most people didn’t dare to go out with the incoming snowstorm. If Jason didn’t feel like throwing up at the prospect of having to face Batman again in one of his hideouts, he would have stayed too.

Now that the train was moving away from Gotham, Jason felt a mixture of relief and sadness. Batman didn’t follow him to the station and didn’t try to contact him again since their small confrontation in the alley. Bruce was probably back with his sons in the Manor, sleeping comfortably in their beds.

The raven tried to block all thoughts of Bruce Wayne and his birds from his head. It did him no good to dwell on it. He already made his choice to go back to Florida and it was a good decision.

It was better to leave than stay in a place where he had never truly belonged. It was better to not care.

Looking at the window of his two-bed cabin, Jason saw Gotham’s buildings grow smaller until they disappeared. The snow got harder and faster, coming from all directions. If it weren’t a snowstorm, Jason would have suspected Mr. Freeze was up to something again. He blamed that on Bruce and his training, he had become as paranoid as the Bat.

Rubbing his eyes, Jason sat in the right bed and picked his Mp3 player from his backpack. It was late and he was tired. This was going to be a long trip, so he might as well lay down in the bed and listen to some classical music before he went to sleep.

Jason had just taken off his jacket when the door to his cabin opened slowly and a man walked in. He was dressed in an old gray coat, dark jeans and thick boots. His baseball cap was worn-out and dirty.

With all the empty cabins in the train, they had sold a ticket to this man in Jason’s cabin? No way.

“Sorry, but I think you’re in the wrong cabin,” Jason said to the man, his Bat training already working as he looked for visible signs of danger or hidden weapons on the guy, who was quite tall and big.

Jason tensed as the man silently walked towards him and sat in the bed across him.

“No. I’m sure I’m in the right place,” a familiar voice said as the man looked up and stared at Jason with bright blue eyes and a face that he knew as well as his own.

_“Bruce?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it's the real confrontation. No more running since, well, they're stuck in a speeding train. No masks. No Batman. No Red Hood. Just Jason and Bruce.
> 
> Comic references from Batman and Red Hood #20 and Secret Origins #5 .
> 
> I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a drag, I know some people hate flashbacks. 
> 
> See you guys in the finale!


	3. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The final chapter and one of the hardest I ever had to write. I hope you guys like the final result and thank you for reading this story until the end, even if I missed the Christmas deadline. Thank you so much for all the favs and wonderful reviews. You are the best!

_Jason_

"Bruce?"

Jason stared wide-eyed at black-haired man sitting in from of him, wearing cheap and worn-out clothes instead of the nice suits he usually wore or the cape and cowl that they all knew he preferred to normal clothes.

He was having a hard time believing it was actually Bruce Wayne standing there. He was supposed to be in Gotham, back in the Manor with Alfred, Dick, Tim, and Damian, not on a speeding train in a middle of a blizzard with _him_.

Bruce nodded slowly, never taking his blue eyes off Jason's face.

"What are you doing here?" the boy asked, frowning.

Bruce rubbed his hands together. "I followed you to the train."

"I can see _that_. And that's not the question," Jason answered back. "You shouldn't be here. I told you to go back."

"I can't," Bruce answered plainly.

"And why is that?"

"Because I can't let you leave, Jason," Bruce said bleakly. "I came to get you back."

Jason blinked twice, processing Bruce's words carefully before facing his former mentor. He wanted to believe Bruce's words, he really did, but he knew damn well that he couldn't. He was done hoping for something that he would never have.

It was so easy to get angry. However, he didn't want to be that person anymore, that angry kid that everyone took for granted. He'd grown up from that.

"If this is about the movie thing, don't worry. I'm not going to my secret lair and plan an elaborate revenge on your family for not sending me an invite," Jason scoffed, he noticed how Bruce tensed with the last sentence but he didn't care. "I'm not going to betray you all and go on a killing spree. The Red Hood is still available for any crisis on Gotham City. I'll still fight."

Bruce breathed slowly through his nose. He seemed to be pondering his words carefully.

"I know you won't. I'm not here because I thought you would turn against me," the older man said softly. "Or because I need you to fight for me. It's not about that, Jason."

Jason felt the familiar heat of anger burning in his chest.

"So it's pity then?" he asked bitterly. "You saw the bad sidekick standing outside in the snow and now you feel guilty."

"Jason—" Bruce muttered, eyes wide.

"Don't try to deny it, Bruce! We both know that's the reason you left the Manor. You wouldn't even think of me if you didn't happen to check the CCTV footage," Jason interrupted abruptly, standing up and glaring at the stunned man in front of him. "So spare me your guilt and your pity. I don't want them."

Jason grabbed his bag. He was going to find another cabin and close the door until they reached their next stop and Bruce finally got out the damn train.

"Why didn't you go inside?" Bruce asked quietly.

Jason turned around. Bruce was still sitting on the opposite bed, staring at him with tired eyes.

"Are you serious?"

But Bruce's face remained impassive. Jason wasn't sure he had ever seen him like this, he looked so vulnerable and… old.

When did Bruce get so _old_?

"I wasn't invited," , Jason answered with a shrug. "I didn't want to intrude."

Bruce winced a little.

"You wouldn't intrude."

Jason sneered. "Yeah, right…"

"We'd be happy if you joined us, Jason," Bruce closed his hands around the bed's blank as if he needed to steady himself. "You don't need an invitation. The Manor will always be your home."

Jason closed his teeth and let the bag fall beside him. Those pretty, empty words meant nothing. Bruce was saying them because it was what he thought Jason wanted to hear, but his actions spoke louder.

If Bruce wanted to talk, very well. They were going to put this all in the open.

"My home, huh? Is that why you still haven't changed security to let me in without sounding an alarm?" Jason asked blankly, watching Bruce's back go stiff, guilt written all over his face. "Let's face it, Bruce. I have as much access to Wayne Manor as Scarecrow or the Riddler. The difference is that I can break in without you noticing."

Bruce stood up abruptly.

"Don't say that! It's not true!" the older man snapped angrily. "I've never thought of you like that!"

Jason frowned and faced his former mentor without moving. He was taller now, almost as tall as Bruce. He wasn't the scrawny boy with a late growth spurt that Batman could silence with a disapproving glare anymore.

"You're right. Wrong supervillains… I would be more like Two-Face to you… or the Joker."

There was no cowl to hide the shock from Bruce's eyes now. It was bit cruel on Jason's part, but it was true. Out of Batman's biggest failures, Jason's death and return as the Red Hood would probably be on par with Harvey Dent's acid attack or Joker's fall into a vat of chemicals.

"You are nothing like them, Jason," Bruce said firmly.

"Am I?"

It was terrifying how similar they all were to Batman. All of them had suffered a terrible fate because Batman wasn't fast enough. Maybe not the Joker. Even as the Red Hood leader, the person the Joker used to be was clearly fucked up and those chemicals back at Ace brought something worse from that man. Dent, on the other hand, had been a good man, a good attorney, who didn't deserve what happened to him. A White Knight twisted by tragedy into a mad man.

Jason had been a street kid and a thief. Even before he met Batman, he had blood on his hands and a criminal record the size of his arm. As a Robin, he had been reckless and violent. After his death and resurrection, he came back even worse as the new Red Hood. He realized that his death wasn't important enough to be avenged and that he had been simply replaced by a better Robin, so he went after Batman and his family. He shot Bruce. He tried to kill the other Robins. Not to mention the nameless scumbags that he had shot, the drug dealers he had decapitated, the criminals he had killed on Arkham Asylum, all the while convinced that he was the Batman that Gotham really needed.

After what he had done, he would have to come back to Batman crawling and begging for forgiveness if he wanted to be part of the family again. But Jason Todd didn't crawl or beg. Instead, he simply left.

"Look, Bruce… I understand. I tried to kill you, Dick and Tim. Hell, I shot your ten-year-old kid in the _chest_! That's not something we can all just forget and pretend it never happened," Jason said, raising his hands, ignoring Bruce's sad eyes. "What I mean is… I know my place. You don't owe me anything, specially not movie nights, portrait sittings or whatever you guys like to do when you're all together. Let's just leave things as they are."

Bruce remained silent and kept staring at Jason. He didn't remember the last time Bruce had stared at him for so long, but those blue eyes were making him feel uneasy. He wanted Bruce to leave. He wanted the pain in his chest to stop.

"Is that what you think, Jason? That you don't belong in the family anymore because we resent you?" Bruce asked quietly but firm.

Jason frowned, the pain in his chest felt sharper. "Do I have any reason to think otherwise?"

Bruce took a step closer. He was now right in front of Jason.

"I made you part of my family all those years ago when I asked you to become Robin. Nothing changed since then."

" _Everything_ changed, old man!" Jason snapped, finally raising his voice. "You picked me off the streets and made me Robin because you wanted to fix me, the sad and broken street rat that was going to become a criminal just like his dad—"

"I wasn't trying to fix you. I wanted to help you," Bruce interrupted. "Give you a home, a family… I wanted to give you a future," his voice softened. "But I failed you in the end."

Jason closed his eyes for a few seconds and pinched the bridge of his nose. They always came back to this. His death. Batman's greatest failure. Never mind that Damian had also died because he didn't obey Batman's orders and jumped into battle. Jason's death would always be the one that they all regarded as a failure.

Then again, Jason had been just another Robin. Damian was Bruce's _real_ son.

It was so pathetic to feel jealous of a ten-year-old.

"You can get over your guilt, Bruce. It's misplaced. You didn't fail me. I'm the one who made the decision to find my mother after you put me on patrol duty. I went after her and she handed me to the Joker. I screwed up, not you."

_I went there looking for a real family. In the end, not even my mom wanted me…_

Bruce's arm moved, as if he wanted to touch Jason, but he dropped it.

"I should have saved you," the Dark Knight muttered. "I'll regret it to the day I die that couldn't protect you."

Jason frowned. "Drop it, Bruce. There was no saving. No protecting me. There never was."

"It's a parent job to protect."

Jason gaped but only for a second. He wasn't going to let Bruce trick him into that fake love again. Bruce wasn't his father. He'd rather be hated for real, than be part of a fake family.

"Shut up."

"I should have been there," the man went on. "I should have prevented it."

"What could you do to prevent it? _Not_ bench me? I was a terrible Robin. Yes, I'll admit it. Ask anyone who was the worst sidekick in history and my name is definitely gonna pop up," Jason put his hands on his pockets, his eyes were an open wound. "Damian said it best. I was just a stray that you picked up along the way, who couldn't follow orders."

Bruce seemed taken aback by this. Damian had told him how he managed to steal the Red Hood's helmet, but apparently, he never told him the exact words he had said to anger Jason to the point he dropped his guard.

"He shouldn't have said that," Bruce finally said.

"Why not? At least the kid is honest, I'll give him that."

"It wasn't honesty. Damian was trying to hurt you and catch you off guard."

"Well, it worked. Whatever, it's not like anyone expected me to be great anyway. Not after Dick," Jason's eyes shone in the dark cabin, old resentments were easy to resurface.

"Jason—"

"I heard you, you know? You and Dick arguing in the Batcave when he found out about me," Jason had been nervous, half expecting his famous predecessor to reclaim the Robin mantle. Instead, he heard Bruce and Dick yelling, accusing each of disloyalty and Dick's outrage with the new Robin.

" _What are you_ _ **doing**_ _Bruce?"_ Nightwing yelled at Batman. _"When I was growing up with you, I always knew where the line was… Exactly what we did, exactly what we didn't do, and why. But this kid doesn't know what the hell he is doing or why!"_

He was never able to get along with Nightwing after that.

"I get it now. I don't blame him anymore. You replaced Dick without even telling him and that's messed up," Jason went on. "Maybe the worst part was having a replacement that was so damn different from him. So obviously worst. Both him and Barbara thought I tainted the Robin name."

He could still see Barbara's face when they first met in the manor while the adults were talking in the kitchen. The way she looked at him, angry and betrayed.

" _You'll never be Dick Grayson."_

"Dick and Barbara said things out of anger back then, they didn't even know you. And I—" Bruce tried to explain. "I never wanted you to be like Dick—"

"No. You wanted Dick to come back," Jason answered with a sneer. "Let's face it, Bruce. He is the only one you actually like working with and no one can ever take his place. The original Dynamic Duo. We all know that, even Damian."

Bruce gaped for an instant before his face hardened like stone. "None of you were replaceable."

"Except when we were."

"Dick created the Robin mantle, but each of you made it your own. You all belonged in your own way. You've all made me proud," he paused and his blue eyes pierced Jason's like a knife. " _You_ made me proud, Jason."

Jason clenched his teeth. "Shut up."

"You were not a mistake—"

"I said _shut up!"_ Jason yelled, closing his hands into fists and ready to punch the man in front of him into a bloody pulp. "Why the fuck are you telling me this? All this crap about family and being proud is a pretty lie and you know it! You're not proud. You can't be proud of your biggest failure!"

Bruce's stricken look was quickly replaced by raw anger. "You are not a failure and I'm not lying! I—"

"You're lying to me and you're lying to yourself, you old bastard! Every word you say is out of your stupid guilt. It's not like you ever wanted me to come back anyway. I'll never be more than costume in glass case and an empty grave to you," Jason shouted, his eyes burning and bright with unshed tears that he refused to give to the man he reluctantly loved so much. "This is pointless… all we ever do is hurt each other and I'm fucking tired so… stop. Stop trying to convince me that I belong to your family. You don't want me. I've let you down way too many times…"

A single tear ran down Jason's cheek as his voice broke. On the other hand, Bruce's face was almost as pale as the snow outside the train, his eyes hollow and filled with hurt.

"Jason… I won't stop.I'm not giving up on you. I can't," Bruce murmured, softly grabbing the boy by the shoulders. "Please come home, son."

As soon as he heard that word, Jason jerked away from Bruce's arms.

"Don't call me _that_! Stop pretending we're something we're not!" the young man yelled angrily, glaring at the man with tears rolling down his face. "I'm _not_ your son!"

Suddenly, the train slowed down radically, throwing them all forward against the walls of the cabin. The wheels screeched in protest as they dragged down the track for what seemed like an eternity, and then the train stopped, hard.

Jason's head hit something hard and he saw a big flash of white before falling on the floor. He felt something warm roll down his face to his mouth. It tasted like iron.

Someone was calling his name repeatedly and he felt strong, calloused hands grabbing him and turning him around carefully. He saw Bruce's blurred and worried face saying his name before he was swallowed by darkness.

* * *

_Bruce_

Bruce held Jason's unconscious body carefully. He had seen the boy move his arms and legs, so apparently there was no damage to his spinal cord. Nevertheless, Jason had hit his head against the wall very hard and Bruce's mind immediately thought of cranial hemorrhages, busted blood vessels and brain damage.

"Jason! Jason, open your eyes!" Bruce yelled, picking up the boy and placing him in one of the beds. There was a cut on Jason's forehead bleeding profusely all over his face and Bruce's shirt. "Jason! Jason!"

Bruce took a deep breath. He needed to calm down and think. Jason was strong. He had survived much worse than a bump on the head. Not even death had been able to claim him. He was going to be fine. He had to.

The loudspeaker crackled and a rattled male voice spoke.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. A conductor will be checking your cabin to see if anyone has been injured."

Bruce looked outside. He could only see pine trees covered with snow, waving dangerously with the wind. He couldn't see any roads or houses nearby. They were probably crossing the mountains when the train stopped.

A female conductor opened the door of their cabin. Her brown eyes widened immediately when she saw Jason's bloodied face.

"Oh, God! Is he alright, sir?"

"He hit his head," Bruce said promptly. "He needs medical attention. Is there an emergency kit available?"

"Yes, of course. I'll go get… Mr. Wayne? Bruce Wayne?" her eyes widened even more as she stared at Bruce's face.

Bruce forced himself not to sigh. He had no time for this now.

"I need that emergency kit _quickly_."

"I… Yes. Yes, of course. I'll get it right away," the young woman stammered before leaving the cabin in a hurry.

Mere seconds after she left, the male voice in the loudspeaker spoke again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're going to cut a bit of power to conserve energy. If you have blankets or sweaters, you may want to use them now. If any of you require extra warmth, we'll try to provide whatever we can."

The lights went dim and the heaters cranked down. Bruce grabbed Jason's jacket and covered him with it. He realized that Jason was wearing his uniform under his clothes, but it would get colder very soon.

Fortunately, aside from the train crew, there were only six passengers on board, including Bruce and Jason. After leaving Leslie's clinic, Bruce had removed his cape and cowl and got dressed with the less conspicuous clothes he could find. Then, he processed to buy all the remaining train tickets since he wanted to be able to talk to Jason freely.

The female conductor returned with an older colleague who was holding the emergency kit and bag.

"Mr. Wayne is here with his… ah… _friend_ ," the young woman said, barely hiding her excitement, her phone already in her hand as she surreptitiously tried to take a few pictures.

Bruce could just imagine what was going through that woman's head. Billionaire, playboy Bruce Wayne, was traveling on a train to Florida with a young man on a sordid, secret sexual escapade.

The thought alone made him feel sick to his stomach.

"He's my _son_ ," he said through clenched teeth, unconsciously using the same glare he reserved for hardcore criminals.

The conductor paled and stepped back. If she could, she would have run out of the train. At least she put her phone back in her pocket.

"I'll… I'll go check the other cabins," she muttered before leaving their cabin as quickly as she could.

"Are you injured, Mr. Wayne?" the older woman asked.

Bruce shook his head. "I'm fine, but my son hit his head against the wall and lost consciousness," he grabbed the emergency kit and a bottle of water and started cleaning the blood from Jason's face. "I think it's a concussion, but I can't risk it."

The older conductor nodded, watching him skillfully clean Jason's wound.

"What happened to the train?" Bruce asked, still pressing a gauze against Jason's forehead.

"The track is completely covered with snow, Mr. Wayne. This train isn't going anywhere I'm afraid."

She handed Bruce a bag filled with ice, which he gladly accepted. He made a few more questions about the train, where they were and if anyone else had been hurt (thankfully no one). As soon as he helped Jason, he would need to contact Alfred and get the Batwing to come and get them, which could be tricky in the middle of all these trees and the blizzard.

"How old is he?" the woman asked casually.

Bruce glanced at her while pressing the bag of ice against the boy's forehead. "He turned nineteen in August."

The conductor smiled kindly. "He reminds me of my youngest boy. You'd need to forgive me, Mr. Wayne. I didn't know you had children. I never read magazines and I only watch the news from time to time," she stared at Jason. "Is he your eldest?"

"Second eldest."

"Looks like a troublemaker if you don't mind me saying," she smiled.

Bruce nodded. Jason's cut had stopped bleeding, it had looked worse than it actually was. Fortunately, it wouldn't need stitches.

"It seems like you have everything under control, Mr. Wayne," she handed him the bag, which contained several blankets. "If there's anything you need, please call. The rest of the crew won't be far."

"Thank you," he answered, grabbing the blankets.

The conductor stood up and glanced at Jason. "You're welcome. Keep yourself and your boy warm. It's gonna be a long, cold night."

She left the cabin, quietly closing the door and leaving them alone. The whole train seemed immersed in silence except for the howling wind outside and Jason's soft breathing.

Bruce sat on the bed by Jason's side and brushed a streak of black hair from his clammy forehead, listening to the uncomfortable silence while he stroked his hair.

Jason had always hated quiet moments back when he still lived in the manor. He could talk about anything for hours, even if neither Bruce nor Alfred answered him. He turned on the television on the noisiest channels he could find and blasted the speakers of the sound system with loud music. After training, Bruce often caught Jason watching rock bands on TV, passionately singing along or pretending he was also playing a guitar.

Back when Bruce was a teenager, all he could think was finding his parent's murderer and finish High School as soon as he could. He had no time for friends, parties or hobbies. When he adopted Dick, Bruce had no idea how to raise a child. In fact, it was easier to train Robin than deal with typical pre-teen stuff that seemed more alien to him than actual aliens. Aside from being Robin, all Dick wanted was to be the best acrobat in the world, just like his parents had been. While Jason secretly wished he could be a rock star like the people he saw on TV and heard on the radio.

When Bruce bought him an electric guitar on the first birthday he spent in the manor, Jason's eyes almost popped out of his skull with happiness. He even managed to teach himself how to play using internet videos.

Bruce smiled as he remembered that damn red guitar. Every time they had a fight, Jason would lock himself in his room and play the loudest, angriest songs he could find. Bruce almost broke the damn thing to make him stop. It was torture to his ears.

One of those fights had been after Jason disobeyed him during a mission in Santa Prisca and accidently blew up the Batmobile. Bruce had been so mad, that he refused to talk to him, let alone bring him to patrol. Meanwhile, Jason filled the manor with rock and roll and the angry cords of his guitar.

After a week of silent treatment and guitar torture, Bruce had returned from a mission, when he was welcome by Jason's angry singing while he played.

" _Sometimes, I hate, the life, I made/ Everything's wrong every time/ Pushing on I can't escape/ Everything that comes my way/ Is haunting me taking its sweet time."_

" _What the hell is this?"_ Bruce had yelled to an unfazed Alfred as he calmly prepared breakfast while the china trembled inside the cabinets.

" _Don't wanna be rude but I have to/ Nothing's good about the hell you put me through/ I just need to look around/ See that life that has come unbound."_

" _I believe the song is called 'Narcissist Cannibal', Master Bruce,"_ the old butler answered simply.

Right on cue, Jason sang the rest of the chorus. _"And you're so cynical, Narcissistic Cannibal/ Got to bring myself back from the dead."_

Bruce got up from his chair, ran up the stairs and bust into the teenager's room.

" _Jason Peter Todd! Turn that thing off, or so help me, I will throw it out the window!"_

Jason stopped playing and stared at Bruce with a satisfied smile. After one week of noise, he had forced Bruce to end his silent treatment.

" _Looks like I won,"_ he said proudly.

Months later, Bruce stood silently at the doorstep of Jason's messy room, tears running down his face as he stared at the open books he would never finish reading, the unmade bed where he would never sleep again and the damn guitar. He had almost grabbed it. He wanted to break it against a wall. Jason would never play it again, so it had no business to exist. Bruce never wanted to see it again.

In the end, Bruce never touched anything from Jason's bedroom. He couldn't even look at it. He was a coward and dumped it all on Alfred, ordering him to get rid of all of Jason's belongings, lock his room, remove all the photographs and everything that reminded him of the boy he had just lost. Alfred said nothing and dutifully emptied Jason's room and every trace of him from the manor aside from a picture they had taken of Jason wearing his first leather coat. Alfred hanged the picture on unused room of the manor and by the time Bruce found him cleaning the frame, crying silently, he didn't have the heart to tell him to get rid of it. In the months and years that followed, Tim would go to that room and talk to Jason's picture when he thought no one was listening.

A few weeks after Jason returned as the Red Hood, Bruce found his bedroom door open. The bed had been made, all his books where back on the shelves and the damn guitar was leaning against the wall, exactly where Jason had left it. Alfred had never thrown anything away. He had hidden Jason's belongings and then placed them all back. A silent request for their owner to return.

All the times Jason had returned to the manor, he avoided his bedroom. Even when he had to be confined to bed after Joker placed acid on his helmet, he had stayed in a guest room. He never picked up the guitar again either.

Bruce wished he could hear him play again, even if was _'Narcissistic Cannibal'_.

"Ouch…"

The older man looked down just as Jason slowly opened his eyes, quietly wincing with pain. He quickly pulled his hand away from his head.

"Jason?"

"What…?" Jason moaned, warily touching the cut on his forehead and hissing with pain. "Ouch! What… hit me?"

"Try not to move," Bruce warned.

But Jason immediately went tense, his trained body instinctually ready to fight as his hands flew to his twin pistols on his back.

"What… attacked us?" he asked, trying to stand up while holding his guns.

Bruce pushed him down by his shoulders.

"Easy. No one attacked us," the boy looked at him confused. "The tracks are covered with snow. This isn't an attack. You hit your head against the wall when the train stopped."

Jason stared at Bruce with wide, yet still unfocused eyes. "Seriously? That's how I hit my head?"

"Lay down. You have a concussion," Bruce told him.

Jason covered his face with his hand and put his guns away. "Fucking bad reflexes…"

As he watched Jason lie down, Bruce almost told him that his reflexes were fine, that it wasn't something to be ashamed of, instead he kept quiet. Anything he said could only make Jason angrier at him, so he chose not to say anything.

He was a damn coward.

"So… We're stuck here," the boy said.

"For the time being."

"Have you called Alfred?"

Bruce shook his head. "Not yet. I was waiting until you woke up. Besides, they can't get us with this blizzard. It's too dangerous for the other passengers. We'll wait for a while."

"Great…"

Jason winced a little and touched his back. Apparently, he also had bruised ribs.

"How are you feeling? Any nausea?" Bruce asked.

Jason shook his head, still covering his face with his left hand. "No nausea or blurred vision… just one hell of a headache. You have blood on your coat."

Bruce dismissed the stained old coat. "It's yours. You have a big cut on your forehead," he looked at Jason's cut and frowned. "It looks a lot smaller now. Half an hour ago, it was still bleeding."

Jason touched the cut absentmindedly and felt the dried blood on his hair. "I heal fast… remnants of Lazarus in my bloodstream, I guess."

Bruce felt all the hairs on his arms stand. He had seen a dead Ra's being dropped into a Lazarus Pit and then rise from it screaming, his eyes glowing green and filled with madness. Every time he went into that Pit he lost more of his humanity, coming back more crazed and cruel. It was terrifying.

He didn't like to think that Jason had been dropped into that same Pit and returned the same way, Lazarus flowing through his veins mixed with blood.

Bruce probably wasn't hiding his emotions very well, because Jason glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

"If you're wondering, _no_. I'm not rabid anymore. I was for a long time and… even now I'm not entirely sure which parts were the Pit or me."

"I know," Bruce answered.

It was true. Jason had changed a lot since he first saw him as the Red Hood, especially after he left Gotham. There was a part of Bruce that thought, that _hoped_ , his madness was a result of the Pit alone, but since he couldn't be certain, he decided to keep quiet about it. It was easier to blame the Pit than accept Jason's hatred.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered so quietly that Bruce almost didn't hear him with the blowing wind outside.

"For what?"

Jason bit his lower lip and sat down on the bed, right next to Bruce.

"Everything," he answered, staring at his hands on his lap. "Trying to kill you, sending Alfred Joker's hair, attacking Dick, stabbing Tim, shooting Damian," as he spoke, Jason's pressed his lips, as if the words alone made him sick. "I wanted to make you all pay for my death, for Joker still being alive, for… moving on."

Jason pulled his legs against his chest, just like he used to when he was still Robin and something bothered him. He looked so young that Bruce's heartstrings twinged.

"Jason—"

"Let me finish. I have to say this now or else I might never be able to," he interrupted, still not looking at Bruce. "When I came back, there was a part of me that hoped I could pick up where I left off, but you had a new Robin and the Joker was still alive. I felt like I meant nothing and it hurt that I was so easy to replace. Suddenly, I wasn't Robin anymore. I was just some screw-up that came back to a life that wasn't his own. I was a nobody that was left behind. So I lashed out and tried to make you all hurt like I was," Jason sighed, his hair fell on his eyes. "I shouldn't have gone after the kids."

Bruce raised his arm, almost placing it around Jason's shoulders, but he forced himself to not touch him. He feared Jason would just push him away again.

"You were seventeen, Jason. You were a kid yourself," Bruce said, and in his eyes, Jason still _was_ a kid. "And Tim isn't that much younger than you."

"That's not an excuse," Jason looked away and stared at the window for a few seconds. "She was afraid of me."

Bruce blinked. "Who was?"

"Talia."

Bruce found it hard to imagine Talia afraid of anything. She had seen her own father come back from the Pit numerous times. She shouldn't be afraid of a teenager she had dropped in there herself.

"What do you mean?"

Jason glanced at Bruce.

"I don't remember how I came back to life. My first memory is waking up in my coffin and crawling out," Jason explained calmly, even though Bruce knew that memory was one of his darkest. "Then I remember the Pit and rising out of it. After I stopped screaming, Talia walked up to me, smiling and promising how we were going to do great things, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she got close. She backed away and stared at me like I was some wild animal ready to pounce."

"Talia knows the effects of the Pit better than anyone," Bruce tried to explain. "She saw how her father became violent after going into the Pit. Maybe she was being careful."

Jason shook his head and lowered his eyes again.

"She had been very calm and pleased until then, and suddenly she gives me this look... Fear. Shock. Whatever she saw in me, it scared her."

Bruce wasn't sure if he would ever be able to forgive Talia. Not only because she had killed their son, but also for keeping Jason away from them. He was grateful to her for bringing Jason back from the dead, but she had no right to tell him that he had been replaced and never avenged. She should have brought Jason back home and let them help him. Instead, she used him to get back at Batman.

Hesitantly, Bruce moved closer to Jason until their shoulders were almost touching. Fortunately, the boy didn't move away from him, but he still didn't look at Bruce.

"Did you know that I met Talia when I was a kid?" Jason asked. "Before I was Robin."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "No. You never told me that… How did you meet her?"

"She showed up in Gotham, during Riddler's blackout. Shortly after the Red Hood gang lost their leader and found a new one," Jason told him, as he pushed his raven hair away from his eyes. "Chris, as kid I knew back then, told me that the Red Hood gang was looking for new recruits so he said we should join. He went to their hideout, but I wasn't sure I wanted to join a criminal gang. That's when I saw Talia being attacked by a bunch of thugs and beating them all up. She was so cool and badass… I guess I was a little smitten."

Bruce nodded. It was hard not to be smitten by Talia. "What was she doing in Gotham?"

"The Red Hood's new leader was an Untitled. She went there to take him down," Jason explained, referring to the ancient, immortal enemies of the All Castle, the group of monks that had trained Jason after his resurrection. "I went with her because I wanted save Chris, but things went wrong. There was this move that she had to perform on the Untitled to remove his powers, but it wasn't working. I was so stressed out, that I tried the move on the guy myself and it worked. After that, the whole Red Hood gang was blown into smithereens. I guess Talia and the League kept an eye on me after that. After coming back from the dead, I didn't know who I was anymore and I didn't have anywhere else to go. And here was Talia al Ghul telling me that you never avenged me, that I had been replaced and forgotten but that she believed I had potential to become someone great if I went with her. So I followed her… eventually she turned her back on me too."

Bruce turned to Jason, hoping the boy would face him, but he had no such luck.

"She was using you, Jason. She wanted your power and she wanted to get back at me. She's the one who was wrong, not you," Bruce told him firmly. "She should have brought you home or at least contacted me. If I knew were alive, I would have brought you back myself. I never turned my back on you."

Jason did glance at Bruce now, his eyes bright but resigned. "You did, Bruce. I came back trying to kill you and your birds, you had to fight me. You had to turn your back on me and focus on your real allies. That's why you told Tim to never talk or even approach me when I finally left."

Bruce felt his stomach fall to the ground. He had ordered all his allies to stay away from the Red Hood when he left the city because he had no idea what Jason was going to do next.

"I was trying to protect them. You went missing for months and then you suddenly left Gotham. I didn't know what you were planning to do," he explained bleakly. "It was never about turning my back on you. I just wanted to keep them safe."

Jason lowered his head. "From me."

Bruce opened his mouth, but Jason cut him out.

"It's fine, Bruce. After what I did, you don't have to explain yourself to me. I understand," the boy grabbed his knees and pulled his legs against his chest. It was so cold now that Bruce would see his breath. "There's this darkness inside of me… there always was. I tried to get rid of it, be a better person, but it never goes away."

"We all have darkness inside us," Bruce said softly, but Jason shook his head again.

"I always knew there was something wrong with me. I told myself that I could change, but all I do is screw things up. I never get anything right. That's why everyone leaves, they get fed up with me," Jason voice broke, his eyes were brimming with tears. "My mom and dad… they didn't want me. I tried to be a good son, but my mom still handed me to the Joker," thick tears rolled down his cheeks and he buried his face in his arms. "Eventually, everyone wants me to go away. My parents, you, the other Robins, Talia… one day, even Roy is gonna realize that he's better off without me. I tried to blame everyone else for that, it's easier that way, but I can't fool myself anymore. When people keep leaving, there must be something wrong with me."

"No, Jason! There's nothing wrong with you," Bruce stood up and stood in front of the boy. "You're not perfect, no one is. You made mistakes because you're human and there's nothing wrong with that. You're a wonderful son. You were strong and caring for your mother, when she should have been the one who looked after you."

Jason didn't raise his head. He refused to look at Bruce.

"I ruined her life. She was too young to have a kid," he sobbed. "I took away her future and then I got her killed. I should have left her alone. She was better off without me."

Bruce clenched his fists. He would never say it out loud, but he hated Catherine Todd for what she had done to Jason, for not being the mother he deserved.

"You're the one who deserved better, Jason. Any parent would be proud to have you as a son."

" _Stop_ … please shut up…"

Bruce didn't shut up, not this time. He moved closer and grabbed Jason by his shoulders, even though the boy tried to move away.

" _No!_ I'm not letting you think that way about yourself anymore! You are not a mistake, Jason!"

"What do you care? You want me gone too!"Jason screamed, trying to push Bruce away, glaring at him through red, tearful eyes. "You don't want me around. You have plenty of people in your life already. You don't need me!"

"This isn't about needing you, it's about loving you!" Bruce grabbed Jason even harder. The boy's eyes went wide. "Goddamnit, Jason! Why can't you see that? We are your family and we want you! We love you! _I_ love you!"

Jason lower lip was trembling as tears streamed down his face. "Stop… don't say that… Don't say things that you don't really mean. It's just going to hurt us more in the end. I'll never be one of your sons."

"You already are. You always were, Jason. That's not going to change. I never stopped loving you, even when we were fighting each other."

"I don't believe you. I can't… What have I ever brought you but pain and disappointment?" he tried to pull away. "Let me go, Bruce. Please."

Bruce pulled Jason with all his strength against his chest, hugging tightly the stunned teen.

"I'm not a good father. I never was. I keep hurting you. No wonder why you feel that you have to leave," Bruce whispered against Jason's shoulder. "But I swear to you, Jason. All those things that I said and did that hurt you, were never because I didn't love you."

After the initial shock of the sudden hug, Jason started struggling again. "Stop it, Bruce! Let me go!"

"I'm a coward, Jason," Bruce said causing the boy to go limp in his arms. "When it comes to you, I choose the easy way. Tonight, I must have picked up the phone at least five times to call you, but I stopped. I told myself that you weren't in Gotham, that you wouldn't like to come, but the truth was that I didn't want to hear you say that you didn't want to be there."

Jason's arms fell as he listened to his old mentor, but his body was still tense as a rock.

"The same thing happened during the portrait sitting," Bruce went on. "I wanted to have a family portrait of all of us together, but you and I weren't on speaking terms. I didn't even know that you and Tim were spending time together. So I did the easier thing, I kept you out. I thought you wouldn't want to come home, let alone be part of a family painting. I avoided every situation that could make us fight even more, because it seemed everything I did and said was just pushing you further away."

Bruce could feel Jason's heart beating against his. He was almost as tall as he was, but he still was the same boy he had met in the street, wary, fearful and alone. Always expecting them to tell him to leave.

"I'm sorry, Jason. I wanted to do right by you, give you space and wait for you to come home on your own, but I see now that all I've done is make you feel unwanted. I never seem to get it right either. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know if coming after you tonight was the right thing, I just knew that I had to find you and bring you home."

"You're saying that 'cause you feel guilty…"

"I feel guilty, yes. Parents are supposed to be there for their children and I wasn't. I thought that if I showed you that I trusted you to fight by my side again, it would be enough… I never meant to make you feel inferior to the other Robins… to your brothers," slowly, Bruce touched Jason's head, who went stiff as a board, but didn't push him away. He started to stroke his raven hair softly. "I'm not a good father, Jason. I'll probably make more mistakes, but I want to keep trying. I'm not trying to be someone I'm not. I'm trying to become someone I want to be. If you let me, I would very much like to be you father."

Jason's back relaxed a bit. He pressed his lips tight, trying to choke back the sobs.

"We're still going to fight a lot," he moaned.

Bruce smiled and continued stroking the boy's hair. "I know."

"I'm still going to use guns."

"I know."

"I'm going to disappoint you again," Jason whimpered. "You're going to regret this."

"Never. I'll never regret taking a chance on you, Jason. I'm glad I got to meet you. I'm glad you're here," Bruce rested his face against Jason's forehead. "And I'm so glad you came back to life, son. I'm so, so glad."

With this, Jason raised his arms and hugged Bruce back, burying his head on his shoulder as he cried.

* * *

_Jason_

They hugged for a really long time, holding on to each other tightly until their arms hurt. It was so sappy, but Jason didn't mind. He cried his eyes out like a little kid, burying his head on Bruce's shoulder and smelling the familiar aftershave he always used.

Maybe this would all go wrong in a few days and turn this moment into another bad memory on Jason's already big collection of things he wanted to forget. But, for now, he wanted to believe that this was going to last forever and enjoy Bruce's warm embrace while it lasted.

It felt like poison was being drained from his body, leaving him tired and his injured head pulsing, but it felt so right too.

Tonight, just for tonight, they could be a real father and son.

They sat down on the bed and Bruce put a blanket around them. It was so warm and comforting, that Jason allowed himself to relax and lean against Bruce, landing his head on his shoulder while the older man contacted Alfred.

As heard Bruce explain to Alfred what had happened and give him the coordinates to their location, Jason closed his eyes and dozed off, relaxed in their warm cocoon. It felt familiar somehow, like they had done this before but Jason couldn't recall it.

_Running nose and cough. A movie on a TV screen while Bruce switched the channels…_

When he opened his eyes, Bruce was staring at the window with a tiny smile on his face.

"Go back to sleep. It's still early," the man said, rubbing circles on Jason's back.

Jason didn't move, but he did glance at Bruce's face again. "Why are you smiling?"

Bruce's lips curled even more.

"I was thinking about your guitar."

Jason raised an eyebrow. Out of all the things that could make Bruce smile, his electric guitar wasn't one of them.

"You hated my guitar," he said. "Every time I played it, you called it _'that damn guitar'_ and said that you were gonna throw it out the window."

Bruce (honest to God) chuckled. "Can you blame me? You played the loudest, angriest songs you could find. It sounded like you were summoning the Devil."

"That's heavy metal for you. You have no taste, old man."

"At least the songs I listen to don't make people's ears bleed," Bruce answered, glancing at Jason with his blue eyes. "Do you still play?"

Jason shrugged. "I haven't played in a long time… I couldn't bring myself to do it. Putting away childish things or something like that."

"I see what you mean," Bruce nodded, most likely thinking of all the childish things he had also put away. "Still, I would like to hear you play it again."

Jason did chuckle with that. "Yeah, right. I could just pick up the guitar and do a cover of the Korn while Damian accompanied with his violin. It would be epic."

Bruce seriously seemed to ponder this. "Yes, it would."

"Don't get any ideas, Dad."

The moment the word slipped through his lips, Jason went stiff and blood quickly rushed to his cheeks. He wasn't thinking, the word just slipped out. He was about to blame his concussion when he saw Bruce's lips curl into a warm and happy smile, so instead he hid his face on his arm like an embarrassed little kid. Screw it! No one was watching.

In response, Bruce ruffled his hair. "I know, son."

The familiar sound of an engine broke the silence as a big aircraft loomed over the train.

"I guess your brothers are here," Bruce said.

"About damn time!"

Agent 37, Red Robin and Robin managed to get all the passengers and crew out of the train safely and quickly, before finally dropping them on Gotham's train station.

As the heroes flew away on their bat-themed plane, Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd left silently through a back door, avoiding the prying reporters who wished to get a comment out of Gotham's most famous billionaire.

Outside, Alfred was patiently waiting for them by the car.

"Good to see you unharmed, Master Bruce," the old butler said impassively before noticing Jason's cut.

"Goodnight, Alfred," the young man waved.

"Goodnight, Master Jason. It's good to see you back. I'll see that wound as soon as we get home."

"I'm fine, Alfie."

Alfred shook his head as they entered the car. "I'll be the judge of that, sir."

Jason sighed, but didn't say anything. There was no fighting with Alfred if he believed they needed his medical services.

"Oh! And Master Jason," Alfred and Jason exchanged glances through the rearview mirror. "I'm glad you're home, sir. Welcome back."

Jason had to lower his eyes, or else he was going to start crying again. "Thank you, Alfred."

As soon as Alfred parked the car on the Manor's garage, the door opened and a teenage raven haired, blue-eyed boy walked towards Jason.

"Timbers," Jason exclaimed as his younger brother stood in front of him.

"Are you okay, Jason?" Tim asked, eyeing the cut on his forehead.

"Yeah. Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix."

Tim frowned, glancing at their mentor. "Are you and Bruce… Did you guys talk?"

This time, it was Jason who ruffled Tim's hair. "We're fine, little brother. You worry too much."

Tim moved away and tried to comb his hair with his fingers.

"I have to worry," the teen said. "I was cursed with the world's most stubborn big brother."

Jason laughed good-naturedly. "I love you too, Timmy."

Tim smiled and Dick and Damian also entered the garage.

"It's about time you got here, Todd," Damian said, his arms crossed over his chest. It would look intimidating, if it wasn't so damn cute. "You made us waste a goodnight's sleep."

Jason grabbed his bag and walked towards them. "Good to see you too, Damian."

"Tt."

Jason was surprised the little Robin wasn't insulting him or demanding he left immediately, but he decided not to ruin the ceasefire. Instead, he stared at Dick, who smiled at him warmly.

"Hi, Dick."

"Welcome back, Jase," the oldest bird said. "I'm happy you decided to come."

Jason shrugged. "Well… it was either the Manor or a frozen train. I didn't have much of a choice."

Dick laughed as Tim slowly moved beside him and let their older brother place a hand on his shoulder while they exchanged a meaningful glance. Apparently, Dick and Tim had a conversation of their own while he and Bruce were stranded on that train.

"Really, it's good to have you back, Little Wing," Dick placed his other hand on Jason's shoulder. "Now, all my brothers are home. It's not the same when one of us is missing."

Jason rolled his eyes, but he smiled at his older brother.

"Dickybird, you have been watching way too many Lifetime movies. Let's get inside before you smother us all with hugs."

"Marvelous idea, Master Jason. Let us go back inside," Alfred told them as they all entered the warm Manor and walked into the kitchen. "Breakfast will be served shortly. Master Bruce and Master Jason can go change into dry clothes, if you wish."

Bruce and Jason nodded and went up the stairs. After Bruce entered his room, Jason noticed the door to his old room was wide open. Slowly, he went inside and noticed several articles of clothing on his old bed. Upon further inspection, he realized they were all his current size.

_Alfred…_

Silently, Jason closed the door and got dressed with his new clothes. After putting his wet clothes in the laundry basket, he saw his old guitar, leaning against the wall, in the exact same place where he had left it all those years ago.

"The damn guitar…" he whispered, slowly closing his hand around its head, feeling its familiar weight.

As he left the bedroom, he found Bruce waiting for him by the stairs, his blue eyes widening as Jason raised the red guitar in the air with a mischievous grin.

"I warned you, Dad!" Jason said.

Bruce smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder as they entered the kitchen together.

"Hey guys! Dad wants to hear me play. Get ready for the show of your life," Jason raised his guitar in the air as he faced his family. "Damian, go get your violin!"

Surprisingly, the little boy obeyed while his other brothers inspected his guitar under the happy gaze of Bruce and Alfred.

Soon, the Manor burst with noise again.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end of this story. Once again, I hope you guys liked it and thank you for sticking with it until the end.
> 
> Now, I want to propose a contest: if any of you guys are interested, you have my blessing to write a spin-off of this story, focusing on Tim and Dick's relationship (and Damian if you want) while they were waiting in the Manor for Bruce and Jason.
> 
> I only have a few rules:
> 
> 1) It has to follow this story's timeline and events.
> 
> 2) You have to credit this story as the original.
> 
> Please tell me in the comments if you're interested or decide to write. I can't wait to read it.
> 
> Thank you so much!


End file.
